


Shared Hearts and Minds

by EllieRose101



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e18 Earshot, F/M, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 04, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:57:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 45,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7343848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieRose101/pseuds/EllieRose101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy being able to hear Spike's thoughts leads to interesting consequences...<br/>Starts off during 'Earshot', then goes AU from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Part One: Snapshot**

Awareness 

When Spike rolled into town, somewhat more sober than his previous visit, he found the demon community in a stir. At Willy’s he overheard someone confirm his worst fears.

Pulling the demon who’d made the comment up by the front of his shirt, Spike snarled in his bright green, scaly, face, “What do you mean the Slayer’s lost it? She’s been hurt?”

“Oh, hey, Spike,” the demon said nervously, “Don’t worry, she’s not dead. Know that’s your job.”

The vampire threw him to the ground and delivered a swift kick to his solar plexus. “Gonna ask one more time. What’s happened to her?”

“She fought off some beastie the other day,” said the demon, in between gasping breaths, “Killed it, I think, but it affected her somehow. She’s gone mad.”

Spike was in two minds about that. As much as he didn’t like the thought of her going crazy, he knew – after an eternity of being with Dru – that madness wasn’t the worst thing that could afflict a person. Might put a poof like soul-having Angel off, though, and that would just give him a better chance.

Finally, he turned away and headed for the door with only one thought on his mind: ‘I gotta see her’.

 

\---

 

Buffy tossed restlessly in her bed, unable to calm her mind or even get physical comfort for her unhappy limbs. Something Giles had given her made her drowsy, but the thoughts and voices of others continued on even in sleep – just distorted and mingled to form a headache-inducing nightmare that didn’t seem to end.

She sat up with a start when the feel of supernatural tinglies crept up the back of her neck. Their familiarity making her even more confused.

“Angel?” she whispered into the darkness.

“No,” a strong English accent replied.

“Spike?! What? Get out. You can’t be here!” she said frantically, feeling utterly helpless.

“Not gonna hurt you, pet,” he said, coming closer. “Just came to check on you.”

“You… you came to – this is another nightmare?”

He blew out a breath, “The idea of me caring about you is nightmarish? I get that. Would have bloody agreed with you a month ago.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Rest. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Suddenly her jaw dropped open and she got to her feet, pointing a finger at him and saying, “Why did you just think that?!”

“What?” he asked, backing away, “You – you bloody well better not be able to read my mind!”

“I can,” she affirmed, before demanding, “What are you doing? What kind of game is this?!” as she was suddenly able to focus on a single stream of frantic thought. The other voices seemed to dull, and her heart began to thud as realization dawned on her.

‘I’m screwed,’ he thought to himself, before saying out loud, “Bloody hell, I have to go.”

The Slayer was too in shock to argue.

When he climbed out her window again she just stared out into the darkness of her bedroom, repeating to herself, “Spike loves me,” until it finally sank in. “Oh God!”

\---

 

Spike went back to Willy’s and was glad to find the demon he’d beat up earlier was still there.

“Right,” he said, holding him up by the throat. “Round two. You’re gonna fill me in on all the details.”

 

\---

 

_Two months earlier…_

South America.

 

Spike was ranting – utterly fed up with Dru’s yammering about Buffy – “You're the one who keeps bringing her up! I haven't said a word about the bloody Slayer since we left California! She's on the other side of the planet, Dru! Gone from our lives forever!”

“But you're lying,” she snapped in return. “I can still see her. Floating all around you. Laughing. Why don't you push her away?”

“But I did, pet. I did it for you!” he protested.

“No,” she shook her head, then raised her fingertips to his temple. “Look. See.”

When they made contact, he didn’t have a vision, exactly. He didn’t ‘see’ anything, but he felt everything. Understood everything.

“No!” he yelled, pushing Drusilla away, “You’re wrong. No.”

Once more she shook her head, “Can’t deny it now.”

Spike growled, “Dammit. How? I don’t… How can I love her?”

With venom she replied, “How indeed! You were mine!” then she slapped him, catching his cheek with her nail and making it bleed. “Not for sharing with sunshine!”

He knew then it was all over, and he did something that shocked himself to his very core: he walked away and left Drusilla standing there, alone.

She closed her eyes and swayed in the silence, before stepping off into a nearby bar and taking the hand of a demon, informing him, “You’ll be my prince now,” with a smile.

 

\---

 

The demon didn’t have anything else to tell Spike other than what he already had, so the blonde moved up the line, to the demon _that_ demon had heard it from, and eventually he got the gist.

“Infected,” he mused to himself. “Hmm… Fixable?”

“Was that bit rhetorical?” asked his current victim, to which the Vampire brought the broken bottle closer to his face. “Okay, okay! Just asking! I’m sorry.”

“Is. It. Fixable?”

“I…” the demon winced. “Yes. They roam in pairs. Get the other one and give her its blood.”

“Finally, useful information!” Spike exclaimed, before dropping the demon to the ground. “Now, where do these guys hang-”

He was stopped midsentence, as the original demon came back looking triumphant.

“Hey,” he said, “Me and the boys did you a favor.”

Spike turned towards him, eyebrows raised. “Kind of in the middle of something.”

“Oh, but you’ll wanna hear this. We got the other one. Y’know, that got the Slayer?”

All the hostility drained out of the Vampire in an instant, and his eyes glowed with joy, but then the demon continued.

“Yeah, we took it out for you. Dunno why you’re so upset about it, but it’s not gonna do the same to anyone else now.”

Spike’s jaw dropped open a little.

“You what?”

“We killed it. Dumped the body in the river. Won’t be seeing that again.”

Spike killed both of the demons in an overwhelming fury.

“Fuck sake,” he said, wiping their blood from off his clothes. “She’s got no chance now. Unless…”


	2. Escape

_One month earlier…_

Mexico.

 

Spike paced the length of his room in the small, rundown motel, wondering why he was paying for such a place when he could have just killed the owner and had done with it. Or even killed the owner of a nice place and taken that.

“Damn it,” he said to himself, smashing a lamp. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

But he knew the answer. Had been trying to process the answer for four whole weeks, and trying to decide what to do next. “In love with the Slayer. It’s sick. I should be put down.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Everything okay?” came a heavily accented voice from the other side.

“Bloody brilliant,” replied the Englishman, before throwing himself down on the bed.

“Why you never enjoy the sun? Be good for you,” the motel manager continued.

“Sod off!” Spike yelled, then thought to himself, _Guess she is good for me. Ain’t that the whole soddin’ problem?!_

With a groan, the Vampire stood up again and opened the door – peeking through it just a crack. “I’m gonna be leaving tonight, okay. You paid up?”

The man nodded and smiled, confirming, “Paid until the end of the week,” then his smile faded a little as he asked, “Surely you no want your money back?”

Spike shut the door on him again.

That night he drove most of the way to California, only to turn around and drive away again.

 _Doesn’t matter how I feel_ , he thought, _She’s never gonna believe me let alone accept me, so what’s the bleedin’ point?_

 

\---

 

On the walk back to Buffy’s house, Spike cursed himself for taking so long to return to Sunnydale. _Maybe I could have prevented this. Protected her_ , he thought, then he said, “Ha!” aloud, “As if.”

 

For the second time that night, Buffy woke to find the blonde Vampire in her room.

At first she didn’t say anything – just sat uncomfortably and listened to him silently worry about her. Then she yelped, as he swept her up in his arms.

“What the hell are you-”

“Sshhh, luv, gotta get you outta here.”

She was too weak to protest physically, and she didn’t want to wake her mom, so it wasn’t until he’d laid her across the back seat of his DeSoto and started driving towards the desert that her complaints began.

“You got demon blood all over me!”

Spike rolled his eyes, “Think that’s the least of your worries.”

Her eyes narrowed as she leaned over to study his face, “What do you know about it?”

“I know you’re gonna go mad a hell of a lot quicker stuck in suburbia.”

Her eyes went wide again. “You’re not lying.”

Turning his own eyes away from the road, he looked at her saying, “Course not.”

“Why do you care?” she asked then, but then cut him off before he could answer, “No, not why. _How?_ ”

Suddenly his focus returned to the asphalt and he stopped speaking, but that didn’t stop her from hearing him loud and clear.

“I don’t understand,” she said at last.

“Well,” he replied, “That’s something we can agree on, yeah?”

There was silence again, for a while, but Spike couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he wanted to explain. Eventually it was too much for the Slayer, and she got him to pull over.

Still sat in the car, she told him straight, “I don’t want excuses, or reasons, just cold hard facts. Where are you taking me?”

“Mexico,” he replied.

“Why?”

“I know a guy down there – er, demon, actually – think he can cure you.”

Buffy nodded, then suddenly changed tack, “How long have you felt this way?”

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, “Longer than I was aware of it, apparently.”

“Hmm,” she murmured, and then he asked her a question.

“You’re not gonna stake me for this, are you? When you’re well, I mean.”

She shook her head, deciding to be honest with him, “No. I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I… I’d feel bad about it.”

“Why?” he asked again, and she punched his arm. “Hey, what’s tha’ for?”

“My head was just starting to feel better, and you made it hurt again.”

“Fine,” he said nonchalantly, with a shrug.

“That act works better when I can’t hear you, y’know.”

“I know,” he admitted, roughly pulling out a cigarette and lighting up, “What else can I do, though?”

The Slayer shrugged then herself.

“Look,” Spike spoke again, “It’s late. We’re not gonna get the whole way down there by dawn, and you need rest. We should stop to sleep. What do you say?”

Buffy looked out of the window – noticing for the first time how badly peeled the black paint on the windows had become. “Sleep where?”

 

\---

 

Spike pulled a tent out of the car’s trunk and threw it at the Slayer’s feet.

“Not good enough, but it’ll do.”

“Good enough for what?” Buffy demanded, panicked.

“You, you moron,” he snapped, before lowering his tone at her raised fist. “Right okay, drop the act, got it. Jus’ meant you deserve more, is all.”

Buffy relaxed her stance. Even pretending she might hit him again drained her of what little energy she had.

“Thank you,” she whispered, not looking at him.

“No probs,” he replied. “I’ll get this up. You should lay down in the backseat; rest until I’m done. I think some of Dru’s old clothes are in there, somewhere, if you wanna change.”

“I’m not gonna wear Drusilla’s clothes!” Buffy yelled, then blushed as Spike thought about how he’d rather see her without anything on at all, before he could stop himself.

Seeing color return to her cheeks, he looked away and pulled at the tent again, snapping once more, “You’re the one bloody well complaining about demon blood, stupid bint.”

Buffy didn’t pull him up on it, knowing he felt exposed and was lashing out just to make himself feel more in control; knowing he was berating himself for his slip.

Silently, she did as he suggested, only to return twenty minutes later in a black velvet dress that was too long for her.

“Don’t laugh, okay?” she said to Spike’s back, as he put in the last peg.

Turning to face her, he gasped a little.

She would have felt self conscious in that moment, but he was silently appraising her figure.

He approached her and knelt down, gesturing to the fabric that trailed in the sand.

Buffy nodded, and he ripped it away, leaving the garment knee length.

Spike stood again and took her hand, leading her to the tent, where he’d laid out a single sleeping bag.

“You don’t need one?” she asked.

“Nah. The cold doesn’t bother me.”

“Right,” she nodded, sitting down, “This is awkward.”

“Sorry, I’ll…” he muttered, cutting himself off as he turned to face away from her.

Her heart was hammering in her chest.

“Sleep, Slayer,” he told her, “I won’t hurt you.”

“I know,” she replied, quietly. Then she did sleep – more restfully than she’d done in two days.

 

\---

 

Buffy woke up suddenly, gasping for breath.

“What’s wrong?” Spike asked, panicked. “Nightmare. Visions?”

She shook her head. “Heat. Too much. Need- can’t breathe.”

“Oh. Uh…” Spike looked about him, then looked at her again, guiltily. “I didn’t bring water.”

“It’s okay,” she panted, looking around the tent herself. It was practically glowing from the desert sun outside. “Just need to cool down.”

“I, umm…” he mumbled again.

“Take off your coat,” she instructed.

“What?”

“You’re the coldest thing for miles. Coat off, now.”

Without another word, he complied, only to be rewarded by her sitting down in his lap.

“Buffy-” he began.

“No,” she admonished, “No words. No thoughts. Just cooling down. Awkward enough. Need to breathe.”

“Right you are.”


	3. Awkwardness

“Buffy,” said Spike.

“I told you no speaking,” she replied.

“Yeah, well, that was twenty minutes ago. I think we passed awkward about three stops back.”

Taking her head off his shoulder to look him in the eye, she asked, “You really think talking about it is going to make it _less_ awkward?”

“Well, can’t bloody well sit in silence! Not like this.”

She sighed and said, “I know,” but held him tighter. “This whole thing is crazy.”

“Too right,” he agreed.

“So why do I feel more sane right now than I have done in days?”

“Because you’ve only got two sets of thoughts running through yer head instead of a whole town’s worth.”

“No,” she shook her head, “I felt I was breaking down before that, too. And that was just my own head.”

“Why?” he asked, and once more she was struck by how sincere his concern for her was.

Buffy sighed again before telling him, “There’s been a lot of confusion; with Faith, mostly. She’s switched sides.”

“Faith?” Spike questioned.

“Other Slayer.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, there’s another one of me - except evil.”

The Vampire looked perplexed, and for a split second Buffy had the fear that Spike would want to go after Faith and forget all about her. _What is wrong with me?_ she thought. _I should not be worried about Spike wanting her. I should be worried about my boyfriend, who I left alone in the same town with her, oh god!_

Briefly zoning back out of her own internal monolog she caught the end of Spike’s: _An evil Slayer? That’s so dangerous. We gotta fix this!_

 _We_. She liked the sound of that, but she wasn’t about to admit it out loud. With Angel, it never felt like they were a ‘we’ - a true partnership. They weren’t equal. But Spike? Buffy believed he’d treat her like a woman, not a confused teenager.

 _Yet another dangerous situation, right there,_ she mused. She’d been blindsided again. _Some part of the Powers that Be has a lot to answer for!_

After more silence and forlorn looks, Buffy concluded, “I think the temporary sanity amidst the craziness is you.”

“Okay,” said Spike. He wasn’t about to argue with that.

“I mean,” she continued, “There are big, BIG issues here,” – he nodded – “But somehow I- it’s like I don’t need to process them? I get to skip out all the second guessing bit.”

“Makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“I guess,” he shrugged, “Look, Buffy, I was planning to be straight with you. Well, as straight as a twisted kinda bloke like I am can be. I never expected you to believe me. Damn well never expected you to be _forced_ to believe me! But I guess it does make things simpler, to know I’m not hiding anything. Still, you’re handling it well.”

The Slayer hung her head, “I don’t think Giles would think I’m doing too great. He’d be so disappointed.”

“And why the fuck is that?”

Still unable to look him in the eye, she admitted, “Because I’m with you.”

“Hardly had a choice,” he countered.

“I could have done something differently. Somehow. Probably. I shouldn’t be here, telling you about my problems.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed, “Anyone back there you can tell your problems to?”

Buffy was silent, which was answer enough.

“Okay,” he continued, “You can’t be straight with them, because they expect you to have everything together, right?”

In a small voice, she agreed, “Right.”

“Well, it’s not bloody good enough!”

Her eyes shot up again, to focus on his.

“They shouldn’t put that pressure on you. Not on top of saving the soddin’ planet every weekend.”

“It’s not their fault.”

“Yeah? Well it ain’t yours, either.”

There was another break of silence before Buffy said, “Ironic question I know, but how can you read me so well?”

Spike shrugged again. “Talent,” he guessed. “Plus, you wear that bloody big heart of yours on your sleeve.”

“Look who’s talking,” she teased.

“Hey, I put a lot of effort into the big bad persona!”

Buffy laughed, “You do. And it works, too. Until you pay attention.” She was staring at his lips, and he moved to kiss her, but she pulled away at the last moment.

“We can’t.”

“Right,” he said.

 _Like fuck,_ he thought.

The Slayer extracted herself from Spike’s arms completely, then, only to jump back into them again a moment later.

“Fuck, is it always so hot out here?!” she exclaimed.

“Well, it is the desert, luv.”

“I know,” she pouted. “I’ve driven through before, but I’ve never felt like I was gonna burn to death. What gives?”

Shrugging one more time – as much as he was able to with Buffy tightly pinning his arms to his side – he answered, “Cars have air con, init?”

She looked at him suddenly and asked, “Does yours?”

He shook his head, “’Fraid not, ducks.”

“Damn it!”

“You really hating the situation that much?”

“Yes!” she answered, more forcefully than intended. She caught a flash of pain across his face, and the corresponding swear words in his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Yes you did,” he interjected.

Buffy hung her head. “I guess. Maybe I did. But I am sorry. It wasn’t supposed to come out like that.”

He tried to shrug again. The movement was starting to bother her.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered.

“Yeah? Seems bloody inevitable now. Shoulda never come back.”

“I’m glad you did.”

His eyes lit up, “Really?”

Filling with guilt again she clarified, “I’d be dead otherwise. Or crazy.”

“Right.”

Silence filled the tent once more until Buffy groaned under the tension of it.

“What can I say?” Spike finally asked. “What can I do to make this easier?”

She had no answer for him. Instead she said, “Explain something to me.”

“What?”

“Dru broke up with you before your last visit.”

“Yeah,” he clenched his fists at the memory.

“And she did that because you– because of how you feel?”

“Yeah,” he said again, “Which part needs explaining?”

“The bit where you came back looking for a way to make her want you again.”

“Oh,” he nodded his head. “Gotcha. Well, you see, she broke up with me for that reason, but she didn’t actually _tell_ me that was the reason until after I’d found her again. The little revelation happened after I was last in town.”

“You really had no idea how you felt?”

“I… I don’t know. Was thinking about you a lot. But mainly in the ‘I wanna kill you’ way.”

“Mainly?”

“Bloody hell, yeah. There were other thoughts. Of course there were. You’re fucking beautiful. I didn’t think it meant anything.”

The Slayer’s brow furrowed, “So, you had thoughts about me? About how pretty I am.” – she shook her head – “That doesn’t equal love, Spike.”

That made him angry. “Don’t you think I bloody know that?!” he yelled. “You think I don’t know what love is? ‘Course it’s more than wanting your body. Bloody hell, Buffy! I was with Dru for over a century. She sired me! And I walked away from her. I thought this” – he gesticulated – “With the thought reading. I thought you’d have no doubt how real my feelings are. Don’t you dare talk to me like I don’t know the difference. Not now.”

Buffy was taken aback. It was a minute before she could respond.

“That’s not what I-” she began to explain, but the Vampire was glaring at her, so she gulped before trying again. “I know it’s real, okay? That’s pretty much the main reason I haven’t completely flipped out and tried to kill you. I just meant that it’s a big leap. Y’know, from wanting someone in… in _that_ way, and then loving them.” She shook her head, “I just don’t know how you weren’t more aware of the process.”

He looked at the floor of the tent, then back into her eyes. “Maybe I didn’t wanna be aware.”

Buffy nodded, “I guess that makes sense.”

Spike blew out a breath, then apologized for snapping at her.

Again the Slayer was surprised.

“I had no idea how good you were, underneath,” she said.

“M’ not good,” he replied.

“But you can be! I’ve seen it. Heard it! I believe in you, Spike.”

His eyes welled up at her words, then his brain kicked in, and he tried to shut down the feeling.

“Doesn’t matter, though, does it?” he asked.

Buffy felt grieved for his inner turmoil. “I guess not. I mean, I’m with-”

“Yeah,” he cut her off, repeating, “Doesn’t matter.”

“What happens now?”

“We wait for sundown. Should be…” – he thought for a moment – “About three hours from now. Then we finish the drive. Get you sorted and get you back to Angel.”

“Right,” said Buffy, who was suddenly thankful that the mind-reading was only one way, because if Spike knew how much she didn’t want to go back, it would only make things harder.


	4. Over the Border

Spike was silent as he drove Buffy across the border into Mexico. What could he say? What could she?

“Too awkward,” she muttered.

 _There’s that word again_ , he thought.

Changing tack, Buffy asked, “Can we trust this demon you’re bringing me to?”

Spike considered that. He wondered if she’d ever truly trust any demon – himself and Angel included.

The Slayer groaned.

“What?!” he exclaimed.

“You!” she replied, “You with your…” she gesticulated wildly “Thoughts!”

Spike rolled his eyes, “Me and my thoughts will go away soon, don’t worry.”

Buffy pouted.

“Now what?!”

Worrying her lip, she admitted, “I don’t want you to go away.”

He sped up and said nothing.

“And, for the record,” she continued, “I trust you.”

The car slowed down again and he looked her in the eye. “Why?”

She shrugged, “You’re very honest for an evil guy.”

That made him chuckle, “That I am. Anyways, yeah, I trust this demon can fix you up. And if he pulls anything _he_ can put money on me taking him out. That make you feel any better?”

“Strangely, yes,” said Buffy, with a smile. Moments later, they pulled up to a motel. “He lives here?” she questioned.

Spike shook his head, “Next town over. First I get you food and water, and clothes, and whatever else you need, and then we see him. Okay?”

The Slayer eyed him suspiciously – knowing full well that part of him wanted to drag the whole thing out, but also that a greater part wanted her healed as soon as possible.

“Okay,” she finally agreed. “You gonna eat?”

“Yeah, ‘M gonna – damn.”

Buffy stared at him. “Did you seriously just realize the butcher was shut?”

“Forgot he closes early on Thursdays,” said Spike, sighing. “Can’t be expected to remember everything.”

“ _So_ not the point!” she replied, “You’ve been bagging it?”

“Huh? Oh,” he raked a hand through his hair, “Yeah.”

“You… you haven’t been killing humans? For… for me?”

“Yeah,” he said again.

“But you didn’t think I’d believe you, or that it would make any difference.”

“Bloody hell, yes! What is this, twenty bleeding questions?!”

“I’m just surprised.”

“Yeah, ‘n I’m a whipped bloody poodle, can we move on?”

Just then she reached up to kiss him, only to stop at the last minute, turning around to cringe. “Sorry. Sorry!”

“Oh, fuck,” he replied, getting out of the car. “I’m off. Don’t die or anything.”

“Spike, wait.”

He shook his head, “Gimmie twenty minutes, Slayer. I’ll be back.”

 

\---

 

Buffy lay on the bed and waited for Spike to return, wishing she had the energy to put all of her apprehension into pacing.

“I’m a horrible person,” she said to herself. “A horrible, cheating, stupid person – with a happy for vampires, apparently. Great. Giles is _so_ gonna kill me.”

Just then the door opened, and in Spike walked. “Y’know, Slayer,” he said. “Talking to yourself’s the first sign of madness.”

She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Sorry,” he retracted. “That probably wasn’t helpful.”

Then she smiled, despite herself. “What you get?”

 

Thirty minutes later, Buffy suddenly said “Hey!” with a mouth full of taco.

“What?” asked Spike, somewhat nervously.

“I just realized something.”

“What?!” Spike repeated, nervousness making way for a little exasperation.

“Angel,” she replied, and he winced. “I couldn’t read his thoughts. He said it didn’t work on vampires.”

“Pah, yeah!” he waved away her comment, “Peaches says a lot of things.”

“What does that mean?”

Spike held up his hands, “Not getting involved. You can ask him yourself. He’s _your_ boyfriend.”

 _She_ winced at that, but let the topic drop.

Pointing to her plate he asked, “You ready to go as soon as you’re done with that?”

The Slayer shook her head, “I gotta call Giles. And Mom. And Willow. God! They’re all gonna kill me! Was it so hard to leave a note?!”

 _Was too worried about you_ , he thought, and she couldn’t stay angry with him. Not when he was looking at her silently, with moon eyes.

In a softer tone she asked, “Is there a phone nearby?”

“One beside you, sweets.”

“I…” she pointed to the device on her right, “That thing’s a phone?”

“Yeah, luv,” he answered, with a smile, “That particular model’s p’rolly older than you are.”

Rolling her eyes and picking it up, Buffy exclaimed, “This place _totally_ needs to modernize.”

Her watcher answered on the second ring and jumped right into it.

“Giles! Giles, I’m okay. Wow. Okay, not okay. I can hear your thoughts down the phone. Calm down a minute, would you?”

He wouldn’t calm down. Completely frantic with both silent and spoken worry, he was hurting the Slayer. Hesitantly, she passed the handset to Spike and told him to explain as she took a step back. “Oh, and ask about the threat against the school. Find out if everyone’s okay.”

The Vampire shook his head fractionally as he thought, _At death’s door and she’s still thinking of everyone else._

When he put the phone down he told her the Scoobys had stopped both a suicide and mass murder.

“I know,” she replied. “You thought it as you heard it.”

“That’s still really weird, y’know,” he commented, and she nodded. “I’m impressed with your merry band, though.”

Buffy smiled weakly, “Yeah. We… We’re…”

That was it. She lost consciousness mid-sentence.

Spike panicked and carried Buffy back out to the car without gathering anything he’d bought for her or even shutting the motel door behind him. In that moment, nothing mattered but getting her help, and he’d do anything to make sure she got it.

His driving was faster and less considerate of other road users than usual as he constantly took his eyes from the road to focus on the Slayer beside him, listening for any changes in her heart rate or breathing. When they arrived, he didn’t stop the engine, just jumped out and lifted her with him, once again leaving the doors wide and the lights on.

With his arms full, he reached the steel door and kicked it with his boot several times until it opened, allowing him entry.

“Bruce!” he barked, “Heal her. Now. You’ve got to!”

Bruce was a seven-foot demon that looked human in every way aside from his eyes, which were luminous purple.

“This is the Slayer,” he said, calmly, as he strolled over to where Spike had laid her, “Why have you brought her here?”

“Didn’t you hear me? She’s sick. Ill – er, infected. Needs help.”

Bruce shook his head, “I know what’s wrong with her, but why did _you_ bring her to me?”

The Vampire punched a wall. “Can you get to the twenty bleeding questions later? We don’t have time for this!”

“You love her,” Bruce said then.

“Yes!” Spike snapped, “Why do you even fucking bother asking questions when you already bloody know. Jus’ soddin’ fix her!”

The demon looked bored. “There’ll be a price, of course,” he said.

“Price. Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll pay it. Whatever it is.”

“You’ll give me anything?”

“Bloody hell, yes! Get on with it!”

“Very well.”

Spike let out a sigh of relief as he watched Bruce cross the room and pick up a vial of amber liquid, which he injected in the Slayer’s arm.

“You knew we were comin’,” he realized.

“Of course,” the demon replied, as he then lifted a second vial – an empty one – and moved towards Buffy again.

“Hey, hey, no!” Spike leapt up, stopping him. “What are you doing?”

“Drawing blood,” was the simple response.

“I don’t bloody think so, mate. Didn’t agree to give you any of ‘er juice.”

“Didn’t you?” asked Bruce, as if talking to five-year-old, “I thought your terms of ‘anything’ as payment were fairly clear.”

“No,” said the Vampire, “You can have anything of _mine_. Can’t take from her.”

The demon smiled, revealing eight rows of tiny razor sharp teeth. Spike was about to say something again when he felt a hand on his arm. Looking down, he saw Buffy had begun to wake and his debate was pushed aside.

“Slayer,” he said, softly, as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “God, I never thought I’d be so happy to see you wake up.”

She smiled in return, weakly, then winced.

“You still in pain, kitten?”

“Yeah,” she said, with a pout, “Everything’s still kinda loud.”

“Still hearing silence?”

“Yeah.”

That was enough. Spike snapped and grabbed the demon by his lapels. “You wanna tell me why in hell she’s not better?”

With no trace of emotion at all Bruce said, “It’ll take a while. Say an hour or so, and she’ll be normal again. There is the, ah, matter of payment?”

“You’re not taking a damn drop from her! Can’t you see she’s weak?!”

Buffy called to him again then, and he returned to her side, while keeping Bruce locked with a glare.

“Yes, pet?”

“How much does he want?”

“Doesn’t-” he began to protest, but she placed her hand on his arm again, and drew the focus of his eyes to her.

“How much?”

“Just a vial full. Not much at all,” answered Bruce.

“What’s it for?”

“My collection, of course, dear.”

“You,” – she coughed a little, trying to sit up – “You collect blood?”

“Oh, no,” the demon replied, “I collect rare things.”

“Right,” she said, holding out her arm, “Well, I guess I can spare a little.”

“Buffy, no,” Spike pleaded, “That wasn’t the deal. Look, Bruce, take anything of mine you want.”

“You think she isn’t yours?” asked Bruce, smiling again.

“She’s not,” said the Vampire, looking downcast.

“No,” he agreed, “Not yours.”

Buffy’s eyes went wide as she heard Bruce finish the sentence in his head, _Not yours, not yet._ She didn’t question what that meant. It required more brainpower than she had available in that moment.

“Just get it over with so we can go back,” she said, “I still had half a taco left.”

Spike allowed himself a little grin at her levity, and resigned himself to the fact she’d do what she wanted.


	5. Home Truths

Buffy stomped into Angel’s mansion and glared at him. Crossing her arms, she demanded, “Why did you lie to me?”

“Buffy, what? Where have you been?”

“I’m asking the questions. Why did you lie?”

Suddenly, Angel stopped acting concerned and went on the defensive, “Lie about what?”

The Slayer’s eyes narrowed, suddenly wondering if there was more than one possible answer to the question. “You said I couldn’t read your thoughts because you were a vampire. That’s a crock. How did you hide them?”

“What did Spike say?” he asked, avoiding her question again. She was silent, so he explained, “His scent is all over you.”

 

\---

 

Buffy had really enjoyed the drive back to Sunnydale with Spike, over the two days that it taken, despite knowing that they’d part when the car finally came to a halt, or maybe _because_ of knowing that, she wasn’t sure. She just knew she didn’t want it to end.

When his thoughts finally stopped flowing through her head, she expected to be relieved, but instead there was a touch of panic. It had been refreshing for her not to have to second guess his motives, or have to deal with mixed signals. _No_ , she thought. _I have Angel for that_.

Coming out of her reverie after what felt like an eternity, the Slayer turned back to the brooding vampire in question and said, “This isn’t about him. I’m sure Giles already told you he was helping me get cured. I want to know what you did and-”

“It was a spell,” he finally admitted, cutting her off. “I did a spell. Or, had one done for me. I couldn’t have you in my head.”

“Why?”

“Buffy just stop, okay? I had my reasons.”

“No. I won’t stop. Not when you were the one saying I should be honest with you. Is it… is it Faith?”

Angel shook his head in irritation, “The only one obsessed with her is you.”

“Don’t you dare!” she spat. “You’re in no position to throw accusations around. Is it any wonder I’m suspicious?”

There was silence for a long moment before Angel hung his head. “No,” he admitted.

The Slayer was in shock. She knew she demanded truth from him, and she already had a good idea he was hiding something, but she didn’t for one second expect him to actually say as much.

Against her better judgment, and against the part of her head that was yelling at her to run from the place and find Spike again, she sat down and forced herself to be calm.

“What is it?” she asked, quietly.

“Do we have to do this now? Aren’t there more import-”

“We have to do it now,” she affirmed. “I don’t care what apocalypse we’re facing. I won’t – _can’t_ – work with you if I don’t trust you. Tell me, Angel, what is it?”

“I…” he hesitated, before stating bluntly, “I don’t think things are working out between us.”

Once more, shock tore through the Slayer’s body, but she forced herself not to react.

Still speaking quietly, she asked, “Is this because I’ve been with Spike for like a week, or was that what you were thinking before? What you were trying to hide?”

“Before,” he stated, not looking at her.

The knowledge was finally too much for her. She shot to her feet and pointed a finger at him, yelling. “You bastard! After _everything_?!”

He tried to explain himself, but she wouldn’t let him.

“Before I went,” she continued, “You looked in my eyes and told me we were forever. _Forever_ , Angel! That’s what you said. And you were thinking about leaving me then? God, do you know how bad that is?!”

“I won’t,” he said. “I mean, I was thinking of moving to L.A., after everything with the Mayor and Faith is done. But I won’t. I can stay.”

Buffy looked confused. “But you said things weren’t working out,” she said, trying to process everything, when something clicked. “Wait a second.”

“I know what I said but-”

“No!” she interrupted, “You’ve said quite a bit. I think it’s my turn. And, honestly? Your word’s pretty much shot to shit right now. You… You just want to stay with me so Spike can’t have me, don’t you?”

“Buffy, don’t be-”

“Don’t lie to me, Angel!” she screamed. “If I hadn’t of gone with him – If you take him out of this whole thing – would you be breaking up with me?”

“You can’t take him out of ‘ _this whole thing_ ’,” was the only answer he gave, and that’s when she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Angel carried on talking despite them, telling her that Spike wasn’t right for her, and that she couldn’t trust him.

She barked out a laugh at that. “That’s rich, coming from you. Wanna know something about Spike? I don’t need to wonder about him. Five days of reading his mind? Knowing so many of his thoughts are full of me? Full of concern and _love_ for me? I think I have enough certainty of his feelings to last me a lifetime. I can trust _that_. But you… You’re the only monster in this situation.”

With tears dripping down her face, she turned on her heel and walked out.

Getting to the sidewalk, she saw Spike behind the wheel of his car, waiting for her. She thought he might do that, and had told him not to, but in that moment she was glad he’d stayed.

He had suggested they don’t go back to the Hellmouth at all, and she had expected the suggestion, at the time. She even knew _he_ knew what her answer would be, before he asked, but he couldn’t help himself from asking anyway.

“We can’t run away,” she’d told him, “Or, well, we can’t _stay_ run away.” She had bit back the bit where she almost told him how much she wanted to stay with him.

Things were different after she left the mansion, though. After she left her relationship with Angel in tatters. She got in Spike’s car and he didn’t say a word; just gave her hand a little squeeze before returning it to the wheel.

“Drive,” she told him.


	6. Resting Assurance

When they’d got a couple of miles out of town, Spike pulled over. Almost instantly the Slayer jumped on him, furiously attacking his lips with her own. He responded, of course, and ran his hands down her arms as his mouth worked in sync with hers, then he took a firm hold of her upper arms and pushed her away so she was looking at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” she replied, before doing so again. After a couple more moments, he pulled back again.

“Buffy, have you thought this through?”

“No.” She leaned in a final time, but he didn’t engage. Buffy looked confused. “What? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Bloody hell, yes. Want it so much,” his eyes focused on her lower lip of it’s own accord. “Want _you_ , but-”

She looked down at her hands, cutting him off, “But not when I’m looking all gross from crying. A big ol’ mess with running makeup, and a red face and-”

“Are you off your trolley, Slayer?” he now interrupted. “Obviously I don’t want to see you in bloody tears, but not because it makes you anything less than ravishing. I just don’t wanna do anything you’ll regret.”

At her silence, he continued, “Don’t know what went on back there, but I have a fair idea. Kitten, look at me, I love you. And I think there’s a spark in you – some attraction for me that you’ve got. And damn if I don’t wanna explore that, but not if it’s gonna be some rebound thing. If… If that’s all you need then I’m not gonna play this round.”

Buffy started to cry again, and was silently cursing herself for doing so. She looked away from Spike again, then said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I need. I just... Take me away? Just for a night? I can’t think right now.”

“Sure thing, Slayer,” he drawled. “One more night of clemency before facing the family.”

He started driving again. “Motel or tent?” he asked.

“Motel. Have you got enough cash?”

“Yeah, Slayer. I’ll see you right.”

“I know you will,” she replied, wiping her face and then yawning, before curling into his side and falling asleep on his shoulder.

She woke up an hour later in a double bed – alone. It was twenty minutes after that, that Spike walked in through the door.

“Mornin’,” he said, despite it being midnight.

Buffy was frowning at him, and he held up his hands in surrender. “Look, not trying to be a prat. A double was all they had. I’ll take the floor, if you want.”

Her expression lightened, admitting, “Hadn’t even noticed that particular problem.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she explained, “I was just wondering how you managed to get me all tucked in without me waking up.”

“Oh. Well, I guess you were knackered. Don’t blame you. Peaches would take it out of anyone.”

She pulled a face at the reference to Angel, and Spike pretended he didn’t make it, barreling right on with his original point. “I should let you rest more.”

She nodded, and he took off his duster and placed it on a chair. “Floor will be better than this thing. More like a torture device than a piece of furniture.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor.”

He looked stricken. “Buffy-” he began, but then he didn’t know where to go from there, so he just looked at her, hoping she’d help him out.

“You were right,” she said.

“Can I get that in writing?” he joked, and she smiled.

“Why not? I’m feeling generous.”

“What was I right about?”

“Everything.”

“Bloody hell, Slayer. You ill again?”

She ignored that comment, elaborating, “You were right about Angel. About him saying a lot of stuff. A lot of not true stuff. And you were right about me being on the rebound. We… I… He broke up with me. And I-”

“Wait,” the Vampire held up a hand, “Hang on a bloody second. _He_ broke up with _you_?”

“Yeah,” she admitted, suddenly feeling guilty. Spike was furious – cursing under his breath and looking around the room wildly as if deciding what to break.

“I’m sorry,” Buffy whispered.

His head shot up at that. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like the only reason I wanted you was because he didn’t want me. I… that’s not it at all. I do want you. That’s another thing you were right about.”

Spike shook his head. “You can be so soddin’ stupid sometimes, you know that, Slayer?”

“Hey!”

Pointing to his skull, he said, “You were in my head for three days and you’re so off the mark with how I think.”

“Huh?”

Rolling his eyes again, he walked over and sat down beside her. “I’m not angry with you, pet. I’m pissed at the great poof.”

“For breaking up with me? I thought-”

“For hurting you, you daft bint. For having the best thing in the world and then fucking throwing it away. I always knew he was a thick, but this tops it.”

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

“You sure? Not a-”

“Not a rebound thing. A me wanting you thing.”

“Well, all right then.”

\---

 

Kissing lead to Spike lying beside Buffy in the bed – her under the covers, him on top – both fully clothed. She had her arms around his neck, and he had one hand cradling the back of her head while his other rested at her waist. The Slayer was panting.

“Want you,” she said, for the fourth time in as many minutes.

“I know,” was his response.

“Don’t think we should-”

“I know.”

Buffy groaned. “Being responsible sucks.”

Spike chuckled and held back an inappropriate joke. Instead, he said, “There’s no rush. ‘M gonna still be here tomorrow.”

Unable to stop the insecure part of her brain rushing forward, she asked, “You will?”

“I’ll be around as long as you’ll put up with me, pet,” Spike affirmed.

Buffy looked away, before admitting in a small voice, “That means a lot.”

“Hey, now,” Spike comforted, “How could I go anywhere? Fuck, Buffy, have you seen yourself?”

She shook her head, and he clarified. “Not that. Not looks. I mean… you’re jus’ bloody amazing. ‘M drawn to you, despite what I am. Should pull away, but I can’t. I… I’m not asking you for anything. I’m in love with what you are. _Everything_ you are. And it has nothing to do with me. It’s all about you.”

“I… That’s intense.”

The Vampire barked out a short laugh. “Don’ you think I know that? Try running around with it beating in yer head. Can’t get away from it. Don’t bloody want to!”

Buffy’s voice suddenly sounded small again when she asked, “What if I never feel that? That deeply?”

“Then I’ll still love you. Ain’t you been listening? What you do can’t change this. I’m drownin’ in you, Summers, I’m drowning in you.”

“God!” she exclaimed.

“What?”

“You make everything- with the words. You’re so…”

“Eloquent?”

“Yeah.”

Spike smiled – a bashful grin. “It’s nothin’. Know I’m a prat for admittin’ most of this.”

“No!” Buffy sat up in protest, pushing him back off her slightly as a result. “No. This is good. Communication definitely a good thing!”

“Well, there’s not much bloody point in me watering it down now, is there? Not when you’ve heard it run through my skull at the same time I do.”

“Guess not,” Buffy said with a smile. “Still. It’s good. It’s… reassuring.”

“Your lot put a lotta doubt in you, huh?”

She shook her head.

“Yeah, they do. I can see it. They make you second guess yourself,” – he shook _his_ head then – “It’s a weakness. You need to trust your instinct.”

The Slayer shifted her weight uncomfortably and looked away again. “Instinct can lead to bad things.”

“Bloody hell, Slayer, you don’t blame yourself for what happened with Peaches, do you?”

With a hard glare, she threw the question back, “How can I not?”

“Because it wasn’t your bloody fault!” he all but yelled, and her eyes began to water. “Shit,” he continued, “I didn’t-”

“You really don’t blame me?”

“Of course not, pet. How could you have known?”

“I…” – Buffy wiped at her eyes and cursed her overwrought emotions once more – “I couldn’t. But… But everything that happened-”

“Wasn’t. Your. fault.”

Buffy threw herself into his arms again, sobbing as a weight lifted off her chest that she hadn’t even known she’d been carrying. After a while of silence filling the room, and their embrace continuing on with no end in sight, Spike said, “Listen, pet. I reckon there’s a thing or two I could teach you.”

Her eyebrow shot up in question, but he ignored it, continuing. “Know a thing or two about instinct, and Slayers and, yeah, even love and regret. What I wanna do… Buffy, if you’ll let me, I wanna help you forget the lot of it.”

“What?”

“I wanna give you the world, Slayer. Jus’ for a bit; let you loose and be a soddin’ teenager without havin’ to worry about anything.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“Good! Now budge up, an’ make some room for me. Gotta get you some real rest before tomorrow.”

They fell asleep holding each other tight.


	7. Morning

Waking up next to Spike filled the Slayer with more joy than she ever could have expected. She spent a few minutes just watching him, trying to decide if he was asleep or just pretending. When she shifted slightly, he pulled her closer, and when she moaned a little, as his cool hand brushed across the skin under her top that had ridden up slightly during the night, he smiled, then breathed in a long lungful of air.

“Smell bloody gorgeous,” he told her, still with his eyes closed. “Feeling alright?”

Buffy returned his smile and closed her eyes then, too. “Better than alright.”

“Really?” he asked, surprise in his voice.

“Yeah. Super peaceful.”

The Vampire was beyond relieved. “And here I thought you’d wake up an’ regret sharing your bed with the big bad,” he said.

Laying a chaste kiss on his lips, she affirmed, “One-hundred-percent regret free.”

That made him open his eyes and look at her as if she were made of gold.

“Buffy?”

“Yeah?” she returned his stare.

“What is this?”

“I… well. We’re together now, aren’t we? I kinda thought- aren’t we official?”

Spike took a moment to test the question in his mind, to see if there was any way it might be a trick. “Is that what you want us to be?” he asked, finally.

The Slayer gulped and was tempted to shy away from answering, but the look in his eyes drove her to honesty. She knew exactly what he felt for her, so she pushed back her fear of rejection and whispered, “It is.”

His lips crashed to hers as the words left them, and they were lost to exploring each other’s bodies again, with hands roaming over suddenly constrained clothing.

Pausing for breath, Buffy decided to continue in her bravery. “Spike…” she began.

“Yes!” he replied. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it. Give you whatever you bloody want.”

She chuckled, genuinely touched by his sincerity, “You know how I said that we shouldn’t, um… go further?”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Yeah?”

“Well, I was thinking about it, and I have this question…”

“Yeah?” he said again.

“Why shouldn’t we?”

“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed, making Buffy laugh again, nervously that time. “What kind of question is that? How do I- Do you want me to talk you out of it, is that it?”

“What?” she curled up her nose in a way he found utterly adorable. “No! No. I was just thinking, like I said.”

“Right. You’re gonna have to lay this one out for me here, luv, ‘cause I’m outta my depth.”

“Well,” she began to explain, “I had it in my head that we shouldn’t. That it was irresponsible. But is it, really? We’re both adults. You’re so _beyond_ being an adult. We’ve done it before, just not, y’know, together…” – her voice sounded so unsure, but she plowed on – “And it’s not like anything bad could happen, right? You don’t have a curse. We’re both single...”

“Slayer,” Spike interjected, “I don’t need to be convinced.”

“So what’s stopping us?”

“I… Well, your Watcher’ll try and stake me, and your mum might come at me with an ax again, but on the list of reasons I care about is jus’ one thing.”

“You want to know if I’m ready; if I really want this… Want you?”

“Tha’ about sums it up,” he confirmed. “God help me, Buffy, if we go all the way in this… and if you then decide I’m not what you want, I couldn’t bear it. You know I couldn’t.”

“I do,” she said. “I… I want you. Don’t want to hurt you. I… I wanna love you.”

Spike heart swelled and he searched her eyes for any hint of hesitation, finding none.

“Buffy,” he warned, “Doing this… Being with you. It’s dangerous.” Her brow knit together in confusion and disagreement, but he carried on before she gave voice to it. “When… Ugh, I’m such a prat! …Buffy, when I love? I go at it – full hog. Never did know how to feel things half-heartedly.”

“I know,” she whispered, stroking his cheek. He had the urge to close his eyes and savor the sensation, but he pushed it aside in favor of driving the point home. “Once you’ve got me, baby,” he continued, “There’s no turning back. Not for me. I can’t… if there’s any part of you that’s worried you might regret it, Buffy… I can’t.”

The Slayer gulped, knowing he was right; knowing he was being honest even at the risk of having it thrown back in his face. There was silence for a moment, as she continued her gentle caress across his cheekbone with her fingertips.

Finally, she whispered the words that would be forever etched in his memory: “I’m kind of like that, too,” she said, “All or nothing.”

He gazed at her, but remained quiet as she came to her conclusion.

“Spike?” she said.

He nodded.

“Make love to me.”

 

\---

 

Still unable to form words, Spike’s eyes spoke volumes on his behalf. In the Slayer’s eyes he saw complete trust, and he knew he didn’t deserve it; knew he’d do anything not to shatter it. Fear had taken hold of him and he didn’t move for a long minute, not until Buffy lightly wet her lower lip, worrying it between her teeth. That’s when he leaned forward to close the small space between them, kissing her softly but passionately. The love he poured into the kiss made her gasp a little, and when she did he pulled back, letting his trembling hands fall to her shirt buttons; his eyes not leaving hers.

Slipping her top off her shoulders, Spike didn’t dare to look away from her face for a second – scared that the fantasy would slip away if he did. It was like both of their first times all over again.

“It’s…” the Vampire mumbled, giving voice to that sentiment. “It’s never been like this.”

Buffy shook her head and reassured him, “Doesn’t matter. All that stuff before? It’s gone.”

He smiled despite himself, asking, “The stuff between you an’ me, pet, or Dru and soddin’ Angel?”

“All of it,” she affirmed. “All that matters is you and me, right now.”

“Bloody hell, I love you!” he exclaimed, reverently.

“Yeah,” she teased, hoping to break the tension, “If you ever get started.”

The tactic worked. Releasing a short chuckle, he removed her pants in record time and touched his fingers to her sex through her underwear. “Getting impatient are we?”

“Yes!” she moaned, making him chuckle again.

“Umm, so wet for me.”

“Need you,” she panted.

“Oh, Buffy,” he exclaimed, removing his own pants and shirt then. “Gonna give you what you need. Gonna-”

“Sshhh,” she said, kissing him once more before ripping her panties away and wrapping her arms around his neck.

He slipped inside her with a grunt from both of them, and she felt instantly complete.

“Not hurting you?” he questioned.

She moaned in response, pulling him tighter and rolling him under her.

Gazing up at her, perched on his cock, with her eyes closed and her bare breasts bouncing in front of him, he swore he was in heaven.

“Bloody hell,” he exclaimed. “Buffy, I love you!”

“Love you,” she repeated, almost without thinking, making Spike stop in mid-motion.

“What?” he said. “What- did you jus’…?”

Opening her eyes, Buffy leaned down to kiss him, simply saying, “Yes,” when their lips parted.

“You-?”

“Yes,” she said again. “I… I love you.”

“Buffy!” he gasped before rolling them a second time and beginning to move within her with renewed enthusiasm. She groaned, and he was about to slow again when she dug her nails into his shoulders and demanded he go faster.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed.

“Yes!” she replied, before tipping over the edge into ecstasy.

Following after her, Spike fought to catch his unneeded breath.

“Love you,” he panted.

Buffy nodded. “So good!” she praised him. “So good, Spike. Spike, I love you!”

And just like that, he was hard again.


	8. Upgrade

By the third time they’d made love that morning, Buffy felt as if they’d been doing it all their lives. Spike seemed to know her body better than she did – taught her how to use it in ways she’d never imagined, but not in a way that made her feel foolish or inexperienced. On the contrary, the Slayer felt liberated.

Letting out a guttural moan, she fell back against the mattress, leaving Spike panting on top of her, enjoying the view.

“Don’t want this to end,” she breathed.

“Doesn’t have to,” he told her.

It was a beautiful lie, and she let herself believe it for all of three seconds before sitting up and shaking her head.

“Know how I wanted to let you loose?” Spike asked then, continuing when she nodded, “This summer. When school’s over, an’ the world doesn’t end, how’s about it? Can do this for three months straight.”

“That sounds _so_ good.”

“’s a deal,” he beamed, before lifting himself off her with a joint whimper of protest as he slid from between her slick, tender folds. “Come on,” he instructed, holding out his hand to her. She took it, not knowing where they were going until he pushed her towards the bathroom.

“Run along, now, before I stop feeling noble.”

Buffy grinned, telling him she’d be, “Just ten minutes,” then adding “Love you,” before shutting the door.

Staring at the back of the door, Spike went into game face briefly, as his hand found his suddenly rigid cock again, muttering “That girl’s gonna kill me,” as he tugged at his flesh. Her scent was all around him, and his demon was demanding he possess her completely. “Buffy bloody Summers. What a way to go!”

 

\---

 

After her shower, Buffy walked back into the bedroom to find Spike lying there, spread-eagle, with his eyes closed.

“Tired?” she teased, before licking her bottom lip.

“Exhausted,” he replied, before finally propping himself up on his elbows. “Ready to go?”

Buffy was silent – completely distracted – which made him chuckle. Only when he handed her something did she come out of her reverie.

“Huh?” was all she said, flipping the car keys over in her hand, “What are these for?”

“They make the big machine out there go,” he deadpanned. “It takes the pretty girl fun places. Or, mediocre places – this is Sunnyhell, after all.”

Her brow furrowed, so he explained properly saying, “You were planning to see your mum and watcher.”

“I am, I just thought you were coming.”

“Would love to, pet, but the big flaming ball in the sky has other ideas.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Gonna repaint the windows when I get a minute.”

“Wait,” she backed up, still not processing the situation. “You actually trust me with your car?”

Spike shrugged. “Not much you could do to it that I haven’t already.”

“But, you-” she began, before a wide smile stretched across her face and she repeated, “You trust me with your car. This makes you like the best boyfriend _ever_!”

Next thing he knew, he had a lap full of Slayer who was hugging him tightly.

“Remind me to let you use my stuff more often,” he joked.

“I will,” she replied, trying and failing for a sultry tone, which they both laughed at. “Seriously, this is _so_ cool!”

“Seriously? You have ten seconds to get behind the wheel before I make you stay here with me ‘till the sun goes down.”

To her credit, she looked torn on the issue, which made the Vampire love her just that little bit more. Using his last bit of reason and willpower, he kissed her then pushed her towards the door, saying, “Go.”

That’s when it hit her how difficult and draining the conversations she was about to face head on were, making her waver once more.

“It’ll be fine,” he reassured her, somehow knowing exactly what she was thinking, before standing up to give her a final kiss. “I’ll meet you at yours after dark.”

“How will you-”

“Bloody hell, I’ll get there, just go!” he insisted, his patience fraying, “’m serious about taking you back to bed and never letting you leave again.”

“Am I doing that annoying needy thing kids do? Oh, god! I am, aren’t I? I’m sorry!”

“Buffy…”

“Okay, okay, I’m being dumb. I’ll go.”

“Right.”

She shut the door, and he lay down again, but then the door opened again, and she jumped on him, peppering his face with kisses before running out for real.

Spike smiled and rolled his eyes, silently thanking the gods for her one more time, before muttering out loud to himself about her being a “Silly bint.”

 

\---

 

When Spike walked through Buffy’s front door, later that evening, he was surprised to find Joyce being nice to him. Not just polite, but genuinely nice.

“Mum took it well, then?” he asked the Slayer, quietly, when she’d gone into the kitchen to fetch them some snacks.

“Are you serious?” Buffy replied. “I told her you saved me from going mad with that aspect of the demon thing and she practically wanted to throw you a party. That was even before I told her me and Angel split up. Think this is the happiest she’s been all year.”

“So she didn’t like Captain Forehead, then? Woman’s smarter than she looks.”

“Hey!” Buffy slapped his arm playfully.

“Hey yourself,” he replied, pulling her in for a deep, needy kiss. It had been too long. The hours that they’d been apart left him craving her and, by the way she responded to him, he’d put money on her feeling the same way.

A minute later, Joyce returned and had to clear her throat loudly before they noticed her and pulled apart.

“Oh, um…” Buffy stammered.

“I think you missed the part about you two being… _involved_ , during our little conversation earlier, young lady.”

“I… well-”

“It’s early days,” Spike interjected on Buffy’s behalf, reassuringly squeezing her hand.

“Yeah, totally early!” Buffy agreed.

“I see,” said Joyce, before giving a little shrug. “Well, you are an upgrade on Angel.”

“Mom!” Buffy exclaimed, aghast, while Spike laughed so hard he almost fell off the couch. Then, as if none of that had happened, Joyce went back to what she was doing – setting down the plate of nachos in front of them.

“Need a napkin?”


	9. Back to Battle

“I don’t get it,” said Buffy, pouting as she slammed her textbook closed on her bed and looked up at Spike, who rolled his eyes.

“I’ve explained it three times,” he complained.

“What? Oh,” she gestured to the book, “Not that. I couldn’t even concentrate. Too many other thoughts.”

“What’s up, kitten?” he asked, sitting up properly to look at her.

“Faith.”

“Tha’s the other slayer, right? Thought you hadn’t seen ‘er since we got back?”

“I haven’t, that’s what’s worrying me!”

“Ah, right then. Patrolling before or after you finish homework? We can stake out the Mayor’s offices.”

She considered the question – looking back and forth between the book and her boyfriend – before deciding in favor of option C, and kissing him.

“Later, then,” he mumbled, as he slid his hands inside her shirt.

 

Later, they were hunched behind a bush looking at a black car arrive at city hall. Well, Buffy was looking, and Spike was busy kissing her neck. She was loath to stop him, but when Faith exited the vehicle carrying a box, Buffy had to push the Vampire away so they could follow.

Inside, they watched Mayor Wilkins open the container and eat a crazy amount of demonic spiders.

“That is _way_ gross,” Buffy commented, perhaps not quite as quietly as she thought, as Faith seemed to be coming their way to inspect the noise.

Quickly, Spike pushed his Slayer through a door before shutting it behind them and listening with his ear pressed to it. After a few moments, a grin appeared on his face.

“What?” Buffy mouthed, and he placed a hand on her chest.

“Yer heart’s beatin’ so fast.”

“Well, duh! Imminent danger, hello?!”

“Bitch’s gone from the hallway,” he told her, “Probably in with the boss again, but we can’t risk going back out there just yet.”

“Great,” she sighed, “Just how I wanted to spend my Friday night – sat in a stupid storage room with you and a bunch of musty old books.”

“Hey,” Spike chided, waggling his eyebrows, “Being stuck in a room with me ain’t so bad.”

“Wait,” Buffy said, holding up a hand as her brow furrowed.

“What? Hallway’s still clear.”

“Thinking. Those books, they might be important. Maybe the ones we’re looking for.”

“We were looking for books?”

“Yeah, before.”

“Well let’s crack ‘em open,” he said, smiling. It wasn’t the best way to pass the time, as far as he was concerned, but if it meant they’d win the war and he’d have the rest of their lives to do the other stuff with her, then he wasn’t going to complain. Not straight away, anyway.

 

Buffy couldn’t believe her luck. The books _were_ the ones she’d been looking for, and parts of them seemed to say a great deal about what goes into an ascension. Not that the Slayer understood most of it, beyond that basic gist, but she dutifully tore out the relevant pages and took them with her when Spike was sure the coast was clear.

 

Outside, she did a little dance of celebration which Spike thought was completely hilarious.

“This is so great,” she said, beaming up at him, “Just the break we needed.”

He smiled back, for a bit, until his face dropped completely.

“What?” she asked, suddenly worried.

Spike didn’t answer her directly, just told Angel to step out of the shadows and say his piece.

“You seem happy,” the elder Vampire commented to Buffy, when he finally did show his face.

“I am,” she replied, gripping Spike’s arm – which he’d snaked around her waist – that little bit tighter.

“That’s good,” he said, looking awkwardly down at his feet.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Did you want something?” he asked, not bothering to mask the irritation in his voice. “Aside from stating the bleeding obvious, that is.”

Angel finally looked at him then, sighing. “I just wanted to make sure she’s okay, okay?”

“No thanks to you.”

“Guys,” Buffy interjected, “Can we not do this?”

Just then, an arrow came flying from nowhere – the rooftop of city hall, it seemed – and lodged itself in Angel’s gut.

“Bloody hell,” the younger Vampire exclaimed, looking around to make sure a second shot wasn’t headed his direction.

“We gotta get to the library,” Buffy said, already in full Slayer mode - and so Spike lifted Angel into his arms and followed her, without question.

 

After he’d unceremoniously dropped his wounded grandsire into a chair, Spike made an offhand comment about how stupid it was.

“What?” Buffy asked, in search of the first aid kit in Giles’ office, hoping to find a bandage to put over Angel’s now bleeding wound.

“Other slayer goin’ after Peaches, to get back at you. Didn’t she get the memo about your affections having shifted?”

“Not sure Giles has been shouting it from the rooftops.”

“Guys,” Angel interrupted, “Can you not be so blasé about this whole thing? I’m kinda in pain here.”

“Oh shut up, you’re fine,” Spike replied. At which point the elder Vampire collapsed in a fit of cold sweats, just to prove how really _not_ okay he was.


	10. Choices

Deciding about what to do about Angel’s sudden unconsciousness was interrupted by a shriek from the doorway of the library.

“Who’s that idiot?” Spike asked in response, to which Buffy made a face.

“He’s the new watcher.”

“Wha’ happened the old one?”

“Giles was fired.”

“Really?”

Before Buffy could explain, Wesley interrupted again by pointing a trembling finger at Spike. “Y-you… You’re William the Bloody!”

“Yeah,” he replied, “Already knew that.”

Completely ignoring him, the watcher then turned to his charge and exclaimed, “He’s a vampire!”

“She knows that, too,” Spike commented again, as Buffy heaved a frustrated sigh.

“Can you panic later? We kinda have a situation to deal with here.”

“Oh, dear lord! What happened to Angel?”

The Slayer rolled her eyes. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out, Wes. Why don’t you call Giles?”

“Giles is no longer your watcher.”

“Bloody hell,” exclaimed Spike. “Are you just gonna stand there all night stating the soddin’ obvious or are you actually helpful?”

“I’m going to call Mr Giles,” Wesley replied, then, as if it was his idea.

“Wonderful,” Spike deadpanned, turning his attention back to his grandsire.

 

\---

 

After observing Angel’s condition for a few moments, Giles concluded, “It’s obviously some kind of poison that only affects the undead. Those are rare, so it shouldn’t be difficult to look up. Perhaps-”

“I’ve got it!” yelped Wesley suddenly, before standing up and handing over a book. “There’s just one that’s available in the Americas, and it has a cure.”

“Well, look at that,” Spike drawled, “He actually does something.”

The younger watcher puffed out his chest in pride at the backhanded compliment, until Giles read on and happened to discover the cure was slayer blood.

“Oh.” He kind of deflated at that.

“Oh indeed,” Giles agreed, not bothering to mask his annoyance.

“It’s simple then,” said Buffy. “I just go get Faith and we fix this.”

“I hardly think it’ll be that simple,” said Giles, polishing his glasses thoughtfully.

“No other way round it, is there?” Spike pointed out, making him sigh.

“I suppose not. Buffy, you will be taking your new… uh,” – Giles’ paused to grimace – “ _Boyfriend_ with you, I take it?”

“’course she will,” Spike answered, at the same time as Buffy replied with a firm, “No.” Meanwhile, Wesley spluttered out tea all over himself in the background, as the word ‘boyfriend’ hit him.

Ignoring him, the Slayer turned to her lover and explained, “This is personal. She’s _my_ responsibility. Please, just trust me.”

“Not bloody likely,” said Spike, and Giles was inclined to agree with him, but Buffy wouldn’t listen.

“I’m doing this. No arguments.”

 _Damn her_ , Spike thought. _She bloody well knows I can’t say no to her_. “Fine,” he said, aloud, before kicking a table and lighting a cigarette.

Buffy agreed she would be careful, then kissed him, and told him she loved him. Around the couple, three pairs of eyebrows shot up – as Angel had returned to consciousness at some point during the discussion.

“Did she just say she loved him?” the elder Vampire asked the ex-watcher.

“I believe she did,” Giles replied, suddenly looking pale.

“I don’t understand,” said Wesley. But Buffy and Spike ignored all the comments as they finished their embrace.

 

Two hours later, the Slayer returned, empty handed aside from having acquired a dagger and a limp.

“Next time I’m gonna listen to you,” she half-joked, as she fell into her lover’s arms.

 

The Slayer went home to try and decide what to do about Angel, and to tend to her wounds, except it was morning by that point, and her mother had other ideas.

 

Walking into the library four hours after that – none of which had been spent sleeping – Buffy wound her arms around Spike once more, not moving for a solid three minutes.

“This is _not_ how I should be spending my Saturday.”

“You look like hell, luv,” Spike told her, petting her hair.

“Gee, thanks,” she pouted, which made him want to kiss her.

Spike leaned in, closing his eyes to savor her scent, then whispered in her ear, “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, even now. Could just use a rest, is all. Even at your worst, Buffy, no one else comes close.”

“Oh,” she blushed, knowing he meant it. “Well, that’s okay then. I guess.”

“Bloody adorable, too,” Spike added – touching his lips to hers.

“Can you stop?” asked Angel, in a brief moment of lucidly.

“No,” the younger Vampire answered, grinning.

“Okay,” Buffy interrupted, with a smile of her own, “You’re enjoying his misery a little _too_ much.”

“Force a habit,” Spike shrugged. “So, how was home?”

“Ugh!” the Slayer groaned.

“That good, huh?”

“My mom chose today to sit me down and ask me about my future plans. Can you believe that?”

“Yeah, pet, I can.”

“Shut up,” she countered, halfheartedly, while massaging her temples.

“Aww, luv, come ‘ere,” he soothed, taking over the action.

The Slayer sighed at his caress, then finally gave voice to the words they both knew were coming: “I have to help Angel.”

“Nothing you can do,” said Spike.

The Vampire in question said nothing, as he’d passed out again.

Buffy pushed her boyfriend’s hands away and stood up, readying herself for an argument. “There _is_ something I can do, and you know it. I’m going to.”

“Buffy, no,” Spike protested, trying to take hold of her again. “What happened to you listening to me next time, eh?”

“I can’t let him die,” she pleaded, tears in her eyes, and it damn well near made him sick. “There isn’t any other way but for him to feed on me.”

What could he say to that? “Fuck,” he decided, when he finally did respond. “What if he takes too much?”

“He won’t. You won’t let him.”

Spike swore again, wondering how he was going to watch such a thing and not rip his grandsire’s teeth out. There was no point trying to convince her to let the poor bastard die, so he had as little choice in the matter as his girl.

“How are we doing this?” he asked, after being silent for a while.

“We’re doing it here. Now.”  

“Don’t want to wait for the watchers?”

“Hell no.”

“Right…”

\---

 

Spike held Angel’s head up, waiting for the next window of clarity to come by, muttering, “You don’t deserve this,” to him, as he did so.

Then the time came.

“What’s happening?” Angel asked.

“You’re gonna take some blood,” said Spike, so calmly he shocked himself. “Take just enough to sort yourself out, and then seal the wound. Alright?”

“But- Buffy?”

“Don’t bloody well argue with us. I’m sure as hell not gonna sit here and convince you to drink from her.”

“Tilt his head more,” said Buffy – fully in Slayer mode – then she leaned in close, and waited for instinct to take over. It didn’t take long. Angel bit into her throat hard, and she gasped and gripped Spike’s arm hard in response.

“Take it easy you stupid bastard,” Spike snapped, knowing the force was completely unnecessary, but Angel was too caught up in the act to hear anything. He just drank and drank, until Spike had to literally yank his mouth away and seal the wound himself.

“You fucking sick, evil, wanker!” Spike yelled, delivering a swift kick to Angel’s solar plexus. “You coulda killed her!”

“Spike,” Buffy rasped, as she held her hand to her throat. “Leave him, come here.”

He went to her side, of course, and held her tight while muttering apologies.

“What are you sorry for?” she asked, “It worked.”

“He could have killed you!” Spike said again, before adding, “Knew he had piss poor control, but I shoulda been more in charge.” Tears welled in his eyes, as he thought about how he could have lost her, then he tightened his hold on her. “Promise me you’ll never do that again.”

“I can’t.”

“What?” he pulled away, completely horrified. “Buffy-”

“I wouldn’t do it again _for him_ ,” she clarified, cutting him off. “But for you? I would.”

“Buffy.” He was crying again. Spike was crying, and he didn’t care at all that Angel was watching him. He was totally caught up in love with the woman before him.


	11. The Prom

Spike and Buffy had a lazy Sunday together, spent in bed at his new place – a small flat, overlooking Restfield cemetery. Their limbs had been tangled for hours, as they switched between sleep, and cuddling, and long, languid sex sessions throughout the day. They hadn’t spoken much, in the interim, however, and Buffy had some questions to get off her chest.

“Umm,” she mumbled, while tracing invisible designs on his chest using her index finger, “So, uh…”

“What?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“About the bite…”

Spike groaned, and she continued. “I always thought vampires couldn’t control the blood lust. Angel and the lack of stopping? Not so shocking from where I was standing.”

“It can be controlled,” said Spike. “If you want to bad enough.”

The Slayer shuddered then, knowing he was right, because he was living proof that nature could be denied, and also knowing that the same incentive of keeping her safe wasn’t as powerful in her previous boyfriend.

“If it had of been you-” she started to ask, before pausing to gulp. “You could have made it not hurt?”

“Yes,” he answered her, honestly. “It woulda stung a bit, for a moment, but that’d be it. I never woulda gone at it like that. No matter how much I wanna taste you.”

Buffy gulped again. “Y-You want to taste me?”

“Bloody hell. Of course I do, Slayer. I am still a vampire. And you–” he licked her healing wound, “You’re the best there is.”

“Right,” she said, blushing. _Why am I blushing?_ she asked herself, silently. _It’s not like I didn’t know he thought that._ Then she realized it was because the thought of _him_ biting her kinda turned her on, and she eagerly pushed the thought away, before it could take hold. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, then, and she was thankful for its cue to change topic.

“Can we have pizza tonight?”

Spike chuckled, and kissed her forehead. “Sure, pet.”

 

\---

 

Come Monday, all talk was focused on Prom. More specifically: prom dresses.

Spike stayed out of it, for the most part. He was only in the library because – pathetic as some might think it – he wanted to spend the brief moments in between Buffy’s classes with her. Both Giles and Wesley had wanted to focus on the upcoming battle, and were trying to dissuade the Slayer from even going to the dance at all, let alone be distracted by planning for it, labeling it a waste of her time and efforts, and that was before Harris broke the news about hellhounds.

Buffy, of course, had grimaced, assured everyone she’d deal with it, then stated – in no uncertain terms – that she was going to party. Rupert had accepted it, despite his reservations, and Wesley hadn’t openly disagreed with her there and then, but as soon as she left for another class, his complaints began again.

“Mr. Giles, it’s simply unacceptable,” he said, completely excluding the Vampire from conversation, as if he weren’t in the room. “She’s being reckless. Naturally, as her watcher, I would be the one to point this out, but she listens to you. You must put your foot down.”

Giles was about to respond, and tell the man that trying to force Buffy into anything was a bad idea, but Spike cut in before he finished opening his mouth.

“Reckless my backside,” he started, “She’s gotta have a life.”

“Buffy cannot shirk her duties,” Wesley maintained.

“Listen here, you smug arsehole. You know jack shit about what she has to put up with day-in-day-out. She can’t ever leave this place, and it’s not because you say so, it’s because she’s responsible and she does her job even at the cost of everything else she wants. So she gets tonight. If I have to kill every single hellhound in the country, she gets tonight off, okay?!”

“Bravo,” chimed Giles, “I do think that was rather well said.”

Wesley bristled but went silent again. He was getting more than a little fed up of having no real authority.

 

By the time school was over for the day, the Vampire had the demon problem sorted, thanks to a tip from good old Willy the Snitch. Giles was obviously impressed, and Wesley seemed to be a little annoyed about it, but neither of the reactions mattered to Spike. It was the look on Buffy’s face when he told her that made it all worth it.

The whole night was perfect. Spike had dressed up and was playing nice with her friends. They’d had a really nice time together – he was an excellent dancer, as it turned out – and her classmates even gave her an award. Crowned her ‘Class Protector.’

The Slayer was so happy that her joy couldn’t even be dulled by Angel’s lurking presence at the door. She’d spotted him on her way back into the crowd and made a detour in his direction.

“Well done,” he said, when she was in earshot. “You deserve that.”

“Thanks.”

“I just came to see…”

“What?”

“If it was real, I guess. I was pretty spaced, before,” he gestured to Spike, who was standing by the punch bowl with a wicked grin on his face, “Around you guys. I couldn’t believe it.”

“We’re real,” Buffy confirmed. “Spike and me? I really think this is it.”

“Wow,” said Angel, sounding more bored than impressed.

“Yeah,” said Buffy, ignoring his mood as she looked over at her Vampire with a smile on her face.

“I’m not gonna say goodbye,” Angel said then, pulling her back into the conversation.

“Huh?”

“After the fight. I’m just gonna… go.”

“Right,” she nodded, “Probably for the best.”

There wasn’t much more to say after that. With a final nod, they parted, and Buffy made her way over to Spike. There was zero hesitation before he asked, “What did captain forehead want?”

Buffy was surprised. “You didn’t look our direction once. How did you even-”

“I can smell ‘im.”

“Okay, eww.”

“Suppose he’s pissed I got to share tonight with you, eh, luv? What a wanker.”

She shrugged before mumbling something unintelligible that not even Spike’s enhanced vampire hearing caught.

“What was that, luv?”

“Angel didn’t want to take me,” she admitted, looking at her feet. “We talked about it, a while ago. He said he didn’t see the point.”

“That selfish bastard,” Spike exclaimed, causing her to look up again.

She knew he wasn’t acting pissed off just to earn brownie points, and she loved that about him. Every expression he made he felt so deeply.

“Well, he’s old,” she said, in Angel’s defense. “It’s not like he understands these things.”

Spike shook his head, “He understands it means a lot to you. That should’ve been enough.”

“His loss…” said Buffy.

“My gain,” Spike finished, grinning once more. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be letting this bother me.”

“Nope.”

“Come ‘ere,” he said, grabbing hold of her before she could move, and swinging her around.

They danced for two more songs, interspersed with kisses, before making their way back to his place again.


	12. Graduation

With celebrations over with for the meantime, focus shifted back to the apocalypse Buffy had in front of her. Willow had spent the morning trying to get the Slayer excited about graduation, but she was failing to see the point in light of the impending peril.

Sat in the library with Spike, she told him she was considering skipping the ceremony.

“You gotta go, pet,” he said.

Buffy pouted. “Please don’t tell me you’re gonna guilt trip me for not making the most of things. How can I? When-”

“The Mayor’s gonna be there,” Spike cut in to tell her.

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Says so right here in the school newsletter you set down when you walked in. Don’t you bother to read these things?”

“Oh,” she slumped into a chair across from him, “My bad.”

Giles, who had been looking through the loose pages from _The Books of Ascension_ one last time, joined the conversation then. “We know this is happening on graduation day, and if he’s taking part in the ceremony then that most likely means –”

“We have an exact time,” Buffy finished for him. “Or, close enough. So that’s where, when, who, but what’s the what?”

“What?” Giles asked, having trouble trying to follow her sentence.

“What kind of demon is old Dick turning into?” Spike translated.

The watcher slid his glasses off his nose admitting, “We’re still not sure.”

“You know,” the Vampire spoke again. “I wonder if any of you ever look at the table.”

It was Buffy’s turn to be lost with the twist in the conversation, so he explained further saying, “There’s a newspaper here, with a headline about a murdered geologist.”

“Okay?”

“I’d put money on it being a clue.”

“How do you figure?”

“I figure it from the fact that Wilkins has all the vamps in this town doing his bidding – me and Peaches excluded – and this guy had some nasty neck wounds.”

“The Mayor sent his boys after him? He must be important.”

“Hence, a clue,” Spike concluded, and she kissed him, declaring love for him once more. “Who knew it paid to be helpful?”

“Do a few more things for me and we’ll see about settling up,” Buffy whispered in his ear, before biting it lightly.

Suddenly feeling very motivated, the Vamp stood up. “I’m checking out the professor’s house, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buffy smiled.

“What are you doing?”

Her smile fell a little as she told him, “I’ll be aiming for the impossible – trying to get my mom not to attend the graduation of her only daughter.”

“Well,” Spike left her a parting kiss, before heading for the door, “Good luck with that.”

 

\---

 

Impossible task done, Buffy returned to the library to find Spike had got back before her, and more of the gang had assembled in her absence.

“We find anything?” she asked, shrugging off her coat and placing herself directly in her boyfriend’s lap as Xander’s eyes almost popped out of his head.

Oblivious to that, Wesley dove in to answer the Slayer’s question. “The professor’s records say he headed an expedition on Kawaii. Digging through old lava beds near a dormant volcano. He found something underneath. A carcass, buried in eruption. A very large one. Mr. Worth posits that it might be some heretofore undiscovered dinosaur.”

“A demon?” Buffy asked.

“Indeed. Most likely the kind the Mayor will become.”

“So, we have a what. Now we just need a plan.”

“Now we need rest,” Spike corrected her. “It’s almost midnight, luv.”

She tried to argue, of course, but the Vampire held his ground, pointing out that she’d need her full strength for the battle. Finally she relented, then dragged him back to her now empty house, where they did anything but rest for the several hours before dawn.

 

\---

 

Buffy woke up with a start, which, in turn, woke her bedmate.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Slayer dream.”

“Helpful?”

“Yes. Get dressed, I’m calling a meeting.”

 

Back in the library, the Slayer explained that Dream!Faith had told her to use the Mayor’s human weakness against him. And Giles said that, based on the existence of the demon carcass, logic dictated that Wilkins was only impervious to harm while in his current form, also commenting that his research suggested there would be an eclipse during the transformation.

“That puts me and Captain Forehead back in the game,” said Spike.

“Everyone’s got a role,” Buffy affirmed. “We all clear?”

“Just a moment,” Wesley interrupted, “My opinion has not been consulted.”

“So?” Spike snarked.

“Do you have something helpful to add?” Buffy asked the watcher.

“Well, no, actually, but that’s not the point.”

“Ugh!” she groaned, “Why do you waste my time?!”

“Buffy, I am your Watcher and I demand respect. Demand you listen to me and-”

“You know what? I think I’m sick of taking orders from you and your council. Especially when most of the time they make things worse. I’m done with it, okay?”

“What are you saying?”

“Watch me spell it out: I’m firing you. Quitting the council.”

“Giles, speak to her!” Wesley pleaded.

“I have nothing to say,” the older man told him, simply.

“Very well. You can turn your back on us, but… But if you need my help in this battle, I’m still more than willing to help.”

“It’s a start,” she conceded, before going over the plan again in more detail.

 

\---

 

Wilkins rambled on so much during his speech that Spike wanted to get the violence going early, and Buffy’s troll of a principal wasn’t easing his bloodlust any, either. The Vampire kept himself occupied with thoughts of how he could dispose of them both until the time came. It didn’t take much longer than that for things to kick off, though.

Suddenly the Mayor started stuttering, the sun went black, and hell broke loose. Students threw off their caps and gowns, revealing an array of hidden weapons, and parents scrambled to get away as the Wilkins’ form began to shift and change. The demon grew huge and immediately started chowing down – beginning with Snyder. Spike was kind of impressed that the man had kept complaining right until the bitter end.

Vampires on the Mayor’s team approached the crowd, then, and he and Angel began picking them off, joined by some enthusiastic football players.

“What are you grinning about?” Angel interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh, you know me, love a good brawl. And I’ve got a damn resourceful lady,” Spike answered with pride, before getting lost in the fray. Someone was trying to kick his head in, while someone else tried to stab at his legs. Last thing he saw, Buffy was running in through the school. Then boom, and it was all over.

 

Emergency vehicles swooped in to deal with the blast, and Giles gave Buffy a hearty well done, along with a diploma he’d ferreted out of the wreckage before it was cordoned off, then went to tend to a whimpering Wesley, as the rest of the gang gathered to observe the carnage.

“Guys, Take a moment to deal with this,” said Oz, “We survived.”

“It was a hell of a battle,” Buffy replied.

“Not that battle. High school,” he clarified. There was silence as the sentiment sank in, then the wolf concluded, “We're done.”

“Nah, mate,” Spike shook his head, slightly, then winked at the Slayer. “This is the beginning. Rest of yer lives start here.”

“Meanie!” Buffy whined, and he chuckled.

“Supposed to be a good thing, pet.”

She pouted saying, “Wanna sleep, not go forth and forge a future. Can’t someone wake me up when it’s time for college?”

“Well,” the Vampire drawled, “I do have plans to not let you leave bed for the next two months…”

“Oh!” Willow stood up, fluttering with second-hand embarrassment, “On that note-”

“We’ll be going,” Oz finished.

Buffy smiled, waved her friends goodbye for the summer, gave Spike’s hand a squeeze, then turned to see Angel lurking in the distance, between two fire trucks. After a brief nod, he turned and went, too.

“Ready to go, luv?” Spike asked.

“Yes,” she answered, with the most certainty she’d ever felt. “Let’s go home.”

Buffy had plans for Spike, too.


	13. Full Circle with Fangs

Every time they slept together, Buffy was convinced it was better than the last. Spike had taught her to use muscles she hadn’t known existed, and the way he sang her praises throughout made her tremble just that little bit more.

“I love you,” she said, after they were spent, before adding, “I wanna be yours,” in a whisper.

“You… You wanna be mine?” Spike stammered, not sure if he was hearing her right. Not sure if the place his mind was going was just one of wishful thinking.

Buffy gulped. It was a big step for her - it would be for anyone, but it was especially big for _her_. She couldn’t fight it, though. She was falling deeper every day. He’d given her everything, and she was ready to make the leap.

“Spike,” she said, still in hushed tones as she looked in his eyes. “You’d never leave me, right?”

“Never!” he swore.

“I…” she gulped again, “I want you to promise me.”

“Buffy, if you think I could ever walk away from you, you’re more insane than bloody Drusilla.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I believe you. I trust you so much, I just…”

“You’re after a vow?”

The Slayer smiled, bashfully, knowing he’d caught on to what she was getting at. “Is that something you wanna do?”

“I’d be damn stupid if I didn’t wanna commit my un-life to you,” he said.

“Do it,” she said then.

“Are _you_ sure?”

“Yes.”

“Buffy, bloody hell, I love you so much.”

She answered him with a kiss – one that set into motion their bodies moving against each other again. Spike’s hands trailed the Slayer’s flesh as his manhood sought entrance within her already tender folds. She gasped when he hit home, and his mouth moved off hers to find the column of her throat, licking and sucking at it before finally biting down in a way that was so far removed from how Angel and the Master had done it that, as far as she was concerned, it was a different act entirely. It wasn’t about taking, it was about giving.

After only a few sips, Spike uttered his claim before sealing the wound closed with another kiss. Buffy accepted with a breathy, “Yours,” then bit and claimed _him_.

The both came harder than ever before, and then instantly the Slayer started to laugh almost uncontrollably.

“What?” said Spike, feeling very uneasy about that particular reaction.

The Slayer bit her lip, struggling to keep a straight face, then said, “I can read your mind again.”

“Oh, bloody hell!” Spike groan as he fell back against the mattress.

Buffy’s mirth died for real. “You don’t mind _really_ , do you?”

“Nah,” he admitted, pouting. “It’s what brought us together, init? I jus’ gotta be good now, I guess.”

 _Maybe I don’t want you to be good,_ Buffy thought, purposefully.

“Oh!” said Spike, sitting up and grinning as the penny dropped and he suddenly saw the upside to the new turn of events. “You like having a bad man between your legs, huh, sweetheart? Well,” he pressed his tongue behind his teeth in that shameless way he did. “I’m gonna find all those kinks you got tucked away.”

“Can’t wait,” Buffy told him in a hearty moan, as he drove into her with renewed enthusiasm.


	14. Chapter 14

**Part Two: Slayer Unleashed**

Summer Fun

Musical tastes had been where Spike and Buffy clashed most drastically. After a week of being able to tune into the Slayer’s thoughts, Spike was near driven mad by how often she got an irritating little pop number stuck in her head. So, one day, he set out to rectify the situation.

“This is dumb,” Buffy told him, as they sat cross-legged, facing each other on the bed, surrounded by vinyl.

“S’not,” he replied. “Makes perfect sense to find some common ground.”

“Yeah. I agree with that, there just isn’t any.”

“You’re giving up too easily.”

“And you’re making picking a CD into this huge deal!”

They looked at each other, mid-argument, and burst out laughing.

“Have I ever told you how much I enjoy bickering with you, pet?” asked Spike, to which his Mate nodded. “It must be the thrill of being right,” he continued to joke, as she hit him with a pillow.

“Hey! Watch the records.”

“Sorry. Okay, talk me through the plan again.”

Spike smiled. He liked this plan. A lot. “I’m gonna play you each of these, and you rate how much you’d be willing to listen to them on a scale of zero to ten. We do the same with yer disks and then… Why are you looking at me like that?”

The Slayer was frowning a little. “Why isn’t the scale one to ten?”

“Because scales of one to ten don’t leave room for things that deserve a zero,” he explained.

“You’re such a dork,” said Buffy, smiling again. “How come I never noticed that before?”

“You’re a bit dim?” Spike hedged, and she silently threatened his music collection with the pillow again.

“Just put on the first song, already,” she relented, when he looked apologetic enough.

They got to work.

It was ten minutes before they were yelling at each other.

 

“You cannot give the Sex Pistols a zero!” Spike insisted.

“I can,” said Buffy, “Because you made the scale go that low.”

“But it’s the Sex Pistols! Punk at its finest.”

“Fine!” Buffy rolled her eyes. “I give it a two.”

“What?”

“Two. Two. I give the stupid song a TWO!”

“How can you jump from zero to a two?!”

“Now you’re complaining because I gave it more?”

“I’m complaining because you’re doing it wrong, luv. You clearly have no concept of the system.”

“Shut up. If I wanna change my answer, skip a rating, and give it a two, I will. I can do what I want!”

“Oh, do me!” Spike exclaimed, and there was silence again, for a beat, then they started tearing each other’s clothes off. Vinyl records fell off the bed, rolling in all directions.

 

Having worked off the tension, two hours later, Spike conceded that his system had flaws.

“Maybe you need to hear decent music live to pick up an appreciation for it,” he mused.

Buffy snorted at the mere idea. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, come on, Slayer. Give it a try. Come to a gig tonight and if you don’t enjoy it I’ll do a forfeit.”

“A forfeit?”

“Yeah.”

“Forfeiting what?”

“I don’t bloody know. Won’t matter, because you’re gonna have fun.”

“And, if I don’t, I can make you do stuff?”

“Within reason,” he clarified.

Buffy pouted at the thought of reason, and Spike attacked her mouth again, finding himself unable to resist that lip of hers.

 

At an underground rock club in LA later that evening, Buffy actually _was_ having fun. It was mainly due to how much pleasure Spike was having and inadvertently sending her through the link, though. The Slayer considered that cheating, so still fully ended to claim her prize – once she figured out what she wanted it to be.

“I can’t see the band,” she complained. “Being short sucks.”

“Can solve that,” said Spike, easily lifting her up onto his shoulders.

“Wow. This is actually a pretty cool view.”

“Good, ‘cause I can’t see a bleedin’ thing. ‘M not much taller than you, pet.”

“You want me to lift _you_?” Buffy asked, half serious.

“No,” Spike answered her, after considering it. “I have a better idea.”

Before the Slayer could ask what the idea was, he had enacted it by turning around and having her sit _backward_ on his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” she asked, until he put his head under her skirt and nudged her panties aside using his nose. “Oh. Oh!”

“Don’t let us bump into anything, yeah?” he told her, silently. “Keep yer eyes open.”

“Ye-Yes!” she agreed, nodding her head despite that fact that he couldn’t see the gesture.

Spike tongued at her center as her fingers kneaded his scalp. She was moaning and, though no one else could hear it over the music, Spike felt the vibrations and smiled against her flesh.

 _No one’s even looking_ , Buffy thought to herself. _I’m here, getting off on the face of my undead lover in the middle of a sea of people and not one of them has a clue._

“Makes it more exciting, don’t it?” Spike asked her, through the link, and she had to agree with him. She’d never felt so free.

By the time the support act had finished, Buffy had climaxed twice.

In the break, Spike got them both drinks and then lead her upstairs to a darkened balcony.

“Also a good view,” Buffy commented, leaning against the barrier and looking out over the dance floor.

“Yeah,” Spike agreed, as he stood behind her and pressed his erection against her ass. “This one has perks too.”

Breathless at just the thought of more undercover public sex, Buffy tried to turn around but he held her in place.

“Huh? I thought you wanted. Oh.” Realization dawned on her of exactly _how_ Spike wanted her when he started pulling her panties aside again.

“Maybe you should just stop wearing these,” he commented, unzipping himself and letting his straining member free of his pants.

Buffy couldn’t answer – couldn’t form coherent thoughts – as he slid the tip of his cock against her sodden clit before sliding it inside her from behind.

“Oh my- ugh!” she gasped, gripping the railing more firmly.

Spike placed his hands on top of hers, leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “Move with me, Slayer.”

“Can’t, ugh! Can’t move!”

“You can,” he said. “Squeeze me.”

She did, and he almost cried out in the strangling pleasure of it.

“That’s it,” he praised. “So good. So bloody good!”

“Yes!” she agreed.

The main act was playing by that point so, once again, the Slayer’s moans were drowned out by the music.

It was music that was growing on her, given the circumstances.

“Ten!” she cried out, as she came, which made Spike chuckle.

He nuzzled her neck and said, “I win.”


	15. Demons and Dreams

“Heads up!” Buffy shouted as she threw a knife in the direction of her lover.

“Cheers, luv,” he said, catching the weapon easily and dispatching an unidentified demon by removing its head. “How about next time you give me more notice? Coulda sliced off an ear.”

“Yeah right, instinct boy,” the Slayer replied, delivering kicks to two vampires who had tackled her at once. “You sensed it before it even left my hand. And my aim is excellent.”

“That so?” Spike joked, as he watched his Mate miss the heart of one of the vampires by mere millimeters. “Look off your game to me.”

The Master Vampire had sat down on a tombstone and was in the middle of lighting a cigarette when Buffy went in on her would be attacker a second time and hit home. She pushed the other one into Spike and knocked him flying.

“Sorry sweetie,” she said, with a wide smile.

“Damn chit can’t take a joke,” he grumbled, also with a smile, as he got to his feet and ripped the head clean off the second vamp.

“Shut up,” said Buffy, before kissing him and pushing him to the ground again.

Sex in a cemetery was not something a younger Buffy thought she would have enjoyed, but it turned out to be one of her favorite outdoor places to do it. Especially when the moon was high, and the stars were out.

Afterward, while they lay under those stars, they talked about the week ahead.

“Thursday’s seeing mom, right? And Friday’s Giles. Or was Giles Saturday?”

“I thought we were seeing the watcher on Thursday and your mum on Sunday?”

“Wait, what day is it now?”

Spike looked at the moon and paused momentarily, before deciding it was past midnight. “Tuesday,” he said. “I think.”

“Ugh!” the Slayer groaned. “It all bleeds together. The upside to school was having a real schedule.”

“Oh, I don’t know, bleeding together sounds like a fun activity,” Spike joked.

“You’re gross,” Buffy told him.

“Yeah, an’ you love it.”

“Love you,” she corrected, “Not your grossness.”

“Same thing.”

“Whatever. Just remind me to call my mom tomorrow, to confirm when we’re due.”

“Will do. Jus’ remember, tomorrow’s our day.”

Buffy laughed, thinking about how they’d spent every single day of the summer so far together. “There are days that aren’t ours?”

“’course not. But tomorrow we have _specific_ plans.”

“Other than patrolling and sex?”

“Yeah, pet. Though ’m sure those’ll also feature,” Spike grinned, while Buffy frowned, trying to rack her brains.

“Knife throwing?”

“Nope.”

“Food shopping?”

“Nah.”

“Broadsword practice?”

“Guess again.”

“Umm… Oh! Clothes shopping?”

Spike chuckled. “Nice try.”

With a sigh, the Slayer gave up, and he told her they were going to work on her Slayer senses more.

“That’s the blindfold stuff, right?”

He nodded.

“Cool,” she smiled, “I like the blindfold.”

“We do have to complete the exercises _before_ getting sidetracked this time, luv.”

“Spoilsport,” Buffy accused, prodding him with a finger before standing up and brushing grass off her back.

“Hey, I did say the sex would happen. Jus’ at the end.”

“Scheduling sex, are we that jaded?”

“Hardly!” Spike barked out a laugh, rising to his feet, content at having watched Buffy redress herself.

“Gotta say,” said the Slayer, as she appreciated her Mate’s backside, “Training with you is a _lot_ more fun than it ever was with Giles.”

“Better bloody be,” Spike replied. “If he was using the same tactics as me, I’d be worried.”

“Eww!”

“Yeah,” Spike continued, “Best keep our procedures between ourselves.”

“Definitely,” Buffy agreed, taking his hand to begin the walk back to his apartment.

The couple had sex twice more there before falling asleep. And, once asleep, it started…

 

Spike only just managed to dodge a right hook from the strange looking being in his dreamscape. Instinctively, he knew the thing trying to beat him down was a Slayer, with more than a hint of the dark side, and also ancient. As they fought, he became aware the dreamscape was mirrored, and that – on the opposite side of a see-through barrier – Buffy was sat staring into a fire that had sprung up out of nowhere, while a carbon copy of the Slayer he was fighting moved around her and spoke words he couldn’t hear.

He could feel his mate through the link, but it was as if it was muffled by the barrier between them, and he couldn’t pick up her thoughts. Obviously rapt in whatever the other Slayer was telling her, Buffy didn’t look his direction once, which brassed him off.

“Look here,” he said, finally bored with ducking punches and beginning to deliver some of his own, “We’re not interested in whatever game you’re trying to play.”

“We should not exist,” the Slayer replied cryptically.

“Right,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Whatever the hell that means.”

“Vampire and Slayer should not be joined. The Slayer line has been corrupted. Blood polluted”

“Bullshit,” Spike countered, in what he considered to be an excellent line of argument.

“Look,” the Slayer said, stopping the battle suddenly and turning to view Buffy through the barrier. “She is love. Full of love. You are death. A scourge to our kind. Worse than the other vampires.”

“Oi! ‘m not worse!”

“You have killed two Slayers. Sought the deaths of three more. Sought out our line specifically. More than any other fanged beast.”

“Oh. Well, yeah,” Spike ran a hand through his hair and looked at his feet.

“We are offering her the chance to break your bond,” she continued, and suddenly he looked up again. Horrified, angry, and scared.

“She wouldn’t,” he said, with more confidence than he felt.

“Even for the sake of her destiny?”

“What makes you think being with me will make her give that up?”

The Slayer shook her head and told him, “You take it from her.”

“No!” said Spike, forcefully.

“So you reject the claim?”

“What?! No!”

“So you take her destiny.”

“Bloody hell!” Spike exclaimed. “This is an either or? Break the claim or take her destiny?”

The Slayer nodded, and he was silent. Next thing he knew, Buffy was shaking him awake.


	16. Deconstruction

When Spike woke from his dream, Buffy told him he’d been freaking her out with all the emotions he’d been sending through their link. He asked her if she dreamt, too, and she was tempted to lie until she realized that he already knew and that she literally couldn’t hide anything from him anyway.

“Stupid claim,” she muttered, and disappointment instantly flooded her. Disappointment, sorrow, resignation, and grief – all of which were coming from Spike.

Looking up at her hurting Mate, she tried to reassure him that she didn’t mean the offhand comment.

“I do _not_ regret this thing we have!” she affirmed.

“What did you dream?” he asked, bypassing sentiment and sticking closely to the matter in hand.

Buffy sighed and told him she had conversed with the first Slayer.

“The first one, huh? Explains the sense of being ancient, but not the darkness.”

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Doesn’t matter. Tell me what she said.”

“She… She said I’m full of love.”

He nodded. “With you so far.”

The Slayer sighed again, then continued, “She said a lot of stuff. Half of which was in some kind of code that I’m pretty sure only made sense to people that are her… but the message was clear.”

“She wants us apart,” Spike summarized.

“Well, yeah,” Buffy admitted. “But that doesn’t matter. I mean, she’s not even alive anymore! What she wants counts for zero, because _I_ want us together.”

“You sure?”

“I’m the one that asked for it, aren’t I?”

“Maybe you didn’t know what it’d be like,” he said, casting his eyes around the darkened room. “Maybe you change-”

Buffy took his hand and said, “It’s been wonderful, Spike. _Better_ than what I expected.”

He was looking at her again, then. Searching her eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” she insisted, trying to kiss him. Spike shied away, though. “This is really bothering you, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is! I don’t want to take your bloody destiny away!”

“My destiny? What are you talking about?”

“Bint didn’t tell you that part?”

Buffy shook her head. There was annoyance and frustration rolling off her in waves, then anger as Spike told her the ultimatum he’d been given.

“I can’t believe she said that. That bitch!”

“Buffy…”

“What? It’s a horrible thing to tell you. To make you think – wait, you believe her?”

“You don’t?”

The Slayer shook her head again. “I think if I was in danger of losing my destiny she would have told _me_. Or, actually, I’d be able to figure it out on my own. None of the cryptic crap she said sounded like that at all.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Spike asked, quietly.

“Then I’m wrong! We’re not breaking the claim. Unless… Is that what you want?”

She didn’t know why she asked, because she knew with her entire being that breaking the claim was the last thing in the world Spike wanted, second only to the possibly of hurting her. And therein lay the problem.

“Look, Spike,” she continued, in a more gentle tone. “This is nothing. Just a bitter dead Slayer trying to shake us up. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” he agreed, still worrying about it. She could hear all the little panicked thoughts running around his head, but chose to ignore them and kiss him goodnight. He didn’t pull away that time and, as she rolled on her side, he spooned her tightly against his chest.

 

When the Slayer woke up again, later that morning, she caught Spike wondering if breaking the claim was even possible.

‘Must be,’ he thought, ‘If the bint’s asking me to do it.’

Turning around to face her Mate, Buffy asked if he’d actually managed to get back to sleep at all.

“Not so much,” he admitted.

“Okay, so you have no idea how to break a claim? Well, I have no clue how someone can lose their destiny. As far as I’m concerned, neither are possible, so the whole thing’s void.”

The logic of what she said did reassure him, a bit, but he resolved to ask the watcher about it. Buffy didn’t dissuade him, hoping it might help, but she was let down by her father figure.

 

“If there’s any risk at all to the mission you should sacrifice the claim,” said Giles, plainly.

Buffy was flabbergasted. Speechless. And Spike was feeling rejection so strong she could barely comprehend it.

‘You are not losing me,’ she told him, silently, as she squeezed his hand with enough force that would have left a mortal bleeding. ‘I’ll marry you if I have to.’

His eyes lit up – wide and awestruck – at that.

“You don’t have to marry me,” he answered her, aloud, much to the confusion of Rupert. “But thanks for sayin’ it.”

Buffy let out a sigh of relief and said, “Good. Because we _totally_ can’t afford a wedding.”

He smiled at her levity and decided that he would stop projecting his anguish unto her.

“Not sure brooding suits me,” he said.

“Not at all,” she agreed. “Makes you look old.”

“Oi!” he laughed.

“Oh, oi yourself,” Buffy replied, kissing him. She could never stop kissing him for long. His lips were like an addiction to her.

“Was some sort of decision reached?” Giles asked, after watching the exchange.

“Yeah,” Buffy answered him with a broad smile when the lip lock ended. “I’m keeping this one. He’s my destiny.”

The watcher tried to argue with her, but she was not for shifting. In fact, the entire situation had only made her _more_ determined to tie herself to Spike.

 

Later that day, between training and patrolling, she asked if she could move in.

“I thought you already had,” he replied with sincerity. “You spend all your time here.

“I know. You’re right. Just, can I? Officially?”

“That depends…”

“On what?”

“On if yer mom plans on officially hating me for taking her little girl away.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and echoed his earlier words saying, “I already spend all my time here.”

“Not officially,” he reminded her.

“Spike!” she whined, wanting a real answer, and he grinned.

“Nothin’ would make me happier, pet.”

Relieved, the Slayer told him she was going to redecorate and withdraw her application to live in the student dorms the following week.

“I ate a decorator, once,” said Spike. “Thought he’d passed on bloody great taste. Pardon the pun.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, but the effect of the gesture was negated by the smile on her face.

“Living together with my boyfriend. This is _totally_ gonna be great!”


	17. Playing House

Packing. Moving boxes. Decorating. Shopping. Unpacking. Bickering. Sex. Patrolling. More sex. Cleaning. More unpacking, and even more sex. It had been a busy week for Buffy and Spike, but they wouldn’t have changed any of it, given the opportunity. Joyce had bought them a large houseplant as a moving in present, and tried (and failed) to hold back tears as she made declarations of her baby girl being “all grown up.”

“Next thing I know you’ll be married with kids!” she had proclaimed, which made the couple give each other a look, which was misinterpreted. “Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re pregnant?!”

“No! Mom. A big no to that! It’s just…”

“Vampires can’t exactly reproduce,” Spike interjected, to save his Mate the awkward topic.

“Oh,” said Joyce, her expression changing from shocked to sad. “I’m not going to be a grandmother.”

Buffy was at a loss at what to say to that, but Spike gave Joyce’s hand a little squeeze and a sympathetic look to let her know it was all okay.

“Oh, I’m being silly,” she said, then, waving him away with a grateful expression.

The Slayer smiled at Spike and silently thanked him. Her mom’s comment made it clear she expected her and Spike to be together for good, and that she actually _wanted_ them to have kids someday – albeit some day a very, _very_ long way in the future – and it touched her. There was no way the woman would ever have felt that way about Angel.

 

“Who knew you were good with mom’s?” Buffy said to Spike, after Joyce had left. He didn’t answer, but the thoughts and feelings running through him that the question prompted told her there was a story there – one he wasn’t quite ready to share with her, yet. She understood that, and she didn’t pry. Instead, she said, “I wish you’d been around years ago, to explain some other things to her. Would have made my life _so_ much easier.”

Spike smiled, knowing full well what she was doing.

“You didn’t tell your mom about the no kids thing?” he said, getting back on topic.

“Well, no,” Buffy admitted. “Like I said, explaining things like that, kinda never been easy. And I didn’t think it would ever come up.”

“And the marriage thing?”

“I thought we covered that a wedding is _way_ expensive?”

“Not what I meant, luv.”

The Slayer sighed, knowing full well what he meant. “How can I tell her we’re the undead equivalent of married? She’ll want to know why she wasn’t invited to the ceremony, and then who’s gonna explain that it was a private sexy moment? I mean- Spike, are you even listening to me?”

His eyes were glazed over, a little, and he was staring at her crotch while unthinkingly grabbing at his own. “Huh? What? Oh, sorry,” he grinned and looked at her face again. “Got a bit distracted thinkin’ about our private sexy moment. Do you wanna-”

Having relived the memory herself, Buffy had begun undressing before Spike got finished his question.


	18. College Life

Before she knew it, the summer was over and the time had come for Buffy to set herself up for school again. Her freshman year at college. Shouldn’t she be more excited? The ‘best years of her life’ were supposed to be ahead of her, but all she wanted to do was to go home and curl up in the arms of her undead lover.

“Totally not a normal girl,” she muttered to herself, as she saw Oz and Willow starting to make their way across the quad to where she was sat nursing a coffee.

Willow asked her how things were going with Spike, to which Buffy said they were good, and told her about the freaky double dream, which accidently segued into her telling them how good her sex life was, at which point Oz excused himself.

 

Spike woke up to an empty bed and to the sensation of his Mate being hot and bothered. He could tell she’d been thinking about them being together, so he decided to send her a few more mental images for her bank.

 

“Sorry,” said a very bashful Slayer. “I really didn’t mean to say all that. But you guys seem good. Are you good?”

“Yeah,” Willow affirmed. “We are. We umm… Kinda took _that step_ , just before graduation.”

“What?! Willow, that’s awesome. Was it awesome?”

“Kinda was,” she admitted, blushing then herself.

Buffy stood up, deciding they needed a firm break from embarrassment, but Willow just looked at her confusedly.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“To get more coffee, I just told you.”

“Umm, no, you didn’t.”

“Yes I di- Oh. My bad,” Buffy laughed a little and gave a wave of her hand. “I just thought it. Sorry, _wayy_ too used to communicating silently.”

“Okay?” said Willow – her brow furrowing even more.

“I didn’t tell you Spike and I can read each other’s minds?” Buffy questioned.

“Nu-uh.”

“Sorry,” the Slayer said again, chastising herself for being a horrible friend.

‘You’re a great friend,’ Spike interjected to tell her, and she smiled, which wigged the Wicca out even more.

“I need to get used to this,” she said. “Definitely more chat and coffee needed. Oh! And I can tell you about my roommate! She’s called Tara, and she’s really cool. Practices magic, too.”

 

When Buffy returned home, Spike jumped on her instantly.

“Never leave me for that long again,” he exclaimed, roughly removing her clothes.

She giggled and pointed out that it had been a standard length day, and that he’d have to get used to it.

“Well,” he countered, “You’re gonna have to get used to this kind of greeting.”

“Think I could do that,” she replied, devious smile in place.

 

The next night, Spike and Buffy went on a double date with Willow and Oz at the Bronze.

The Vampire and wolf got on better than anyone would have expected, as they talked about seventies rock music and obscure philosophical theories that even went over the witch’s head.

While they were lost in deep conversation, the girls discussed Xander and the follies of his road trip around all fifty states, which he’d been keeping Willow updated with by means of a weekly postcard.

 

They saw Harmony dancing with some guy.

“That’s the guy from Psych 101,” Buffy noted. “Parker, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I think it is,” said witch. “Rumor has is it he’s a bit of a sleaze bag.”

“Really? But he always seemed so nice.”

“It’s the nice ones you gotta watch out for,” Spike commented, rejoining the main conversation.

“Guess I’m safe there, then,” Buffy joked.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m bad to the bone.”

Buffy outright laughed at that. “Sure you are,” she said, winking.

Maybe college wasn’t going to be so bad after all…


	19. Group Politics

The gang had gathered at Giles’ apartment for an old–style Scooby meeting, not because there was any particular danger, but simply because they hadn’t had one in a while, and the group wanted to welcome Xander back from his travels.

The boy had brought Anya along. At some point in the week since he’d returned, the two seemed to have formed a relationship – the development much to Willow’s annoyance.

She was upset when Anya said she was the driving everyone else mad, talking non-stop about how awesome her roommate was.

“You love her so damn much I’m surprised you’re not sleeping together,” she said.

Willow’s mouth dropped open in and she blushed. Not that she’d admit it, but Oz had made a similar comment to her, just that morning. He was off practicing with his band, and she was grateful he hadn’t heard Anya’s conclusion.

“That’s not nice to say, Ahn,” said Xander.

“But it’s true,” Anya maintained. “I’ve only ever heard people in romantic relationships go on so much about the supposedly appealing attributes in each other.”

“Not nice,” he repeated, struggling to find it within himself to properly disagree with her.

“Why is she here again?” Willow asked, not bothering at all to hide her bitterness.

“Because Harris likes the ex-vengeance chit,” said Spike. “I say good for him. The group needs a little more brutal honesty.”

“More brutal honesty?” Xander interjected, “How’s this? I still don’t like you.”

Spike humored him. “’An’ why’s that, exactly?” he asked.

“You’re evil! A demon!”

“Okay,” said Spike. That had been the expected response. He leaned forward and spoke seriously. “Let me lay this out for ya: your girl was a demon. She’d still be one, if she had the choice. Reckon she’s got thousands more deaths on her hands than me. And me? I’d be human again –” he nodded towards Buffy – “For her. If I got the chance. But we don’t get those choices, Whelp. We can only do what we can. But don’t think for a second that your girl is more acceptable than me, jus’ cause she got a pretty little soul. Don’t mean jack, in my book.”

There was silence.

Spike reclined again, and Anya nodded her head in agreement with his words.

“Right,” began Willow, desperately trying to change topic. She turned to Buffy and asked, “So, did the First Slayer ever turn up in your dreams again?”

“Nah. But, really, with her being dead and all it’s not surprising. Wait a second –” she turned to Giles. “Have we stopped to ask how she contacted us from beyond the grave in the first place?”

“I, well… That’s not –” the watcher blustered. “I’ve been busy!”

Buffy looked down at the glass of Scotch in his hand, then back up at his face, quirking her eyebrow – silently saying all that needed to be said.

Giles sat down in defeat. “Right, okay, fair enough. I’ve been slacking.”

“It’s okay,” said Buffy. “Everyone needs a little downtime. But giving up an opportunity to research something… are you okay?” What had started out as a light, reassuring sentence ended up weighed down with sudden concern.

“Really, I’m fine,” Giles insisted, finishing his drink in a single swallow.

“Your watcher is feeling like a spare part,” said Anya. “Now that you’re training only with Spike.”

“Anya!” Xander chided.

“That right?” Spike asked the older man.

“Perhaps,” he allowed, not meeting his eyes.

“Well, that’s totally fixable,” said Buffy. “We can train again, if you want.”

Spike frowned, and the Slayer reassured him that the watcher training would be on top of what they did privately – not instead of. The Vampire still wasn’t happy, though.

“Y’r schedule’s pretty packed,” he reminded her. “Don’t want to overdo things.”

“Well, I’m sure if Buffy stops boning you she’ll have plenty of time for everything else,” said Xander. Everyone turned to look at him, and he gulped under the pressure of their stares. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just, y’know-” he trailed off, waving his hand in the direction of Spike.

“Annoyed because he very easily pointed out a massive flaw in your thinking and made you readdress all of your prejudices towards him?” Anya provided.

Xander winced. “Yeah, that.”

“Wonderful,” Spike deadpanned, taking hold of Buffy’s hand and leading her towards to the door. He was internally fuming, which was the only reason the Slayer didn’t scold him when he declared, “I’m off to bone m’ misses,” before slamming Giles’ front door behind them.

Giles poured himself another drink and opened a book to begin research.


	20. Routine

Spike pulled Buffy aside and made firm love to her against a wall before they had even made it halfway home. She gasped as she came, clutching him tightly as her legs trembled.

“’M sorry,” he murmured into her hair. “Had to work off the tension.”

“M’yeah,” the Slayer replied - wholly unable to form a coherent sentence.

The Vampire carried on talking, regardless. “Don’ want you stretching yourself too far,” he said, as his fingers idly skated across her goose-pimpled flesh and he breathed in her scent. “Don’ think they believe I really mean that. That ‘m trying to think of your best interests.”

“Sshhh,” said Buffy, kissing him deeply. While her lips danced with his, she reassured him through the bond that _she_ understood his motives, and that that was all that really mattered. “They’ll come around,” she said out loud when their mouths finally parted. “Think you’ve finally gotten through to Xander.”

“Yeah,” said Spike. “Boy jus’ needs a couple days to chew on that, I reckon.”

Buffy smiled and pulled away before pulling down her clothes and taking Spike’s hand to continue their walk.

 

The next day, Buffy and Giles tried to train together. He was very impressed with how her skills had developed, but had to admit the session felt stilted.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” she moved a hand dismissively. “It’s a little awkward. It’ll be fine.”

Giles pursed his lips. “Awkward?”

“Yeah, I… Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I found my flow with Spike. It’s weird not fighting alongside him. Kinda feels wrong, actually.”

“Well, you do need to prepare for situations in which he may not be available,” Giles reasoned.

“I know. I know. You’re right. It… it’s just-”

“Not working.”

“Not really,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”

The watcher hung his head a little. Disappointed as he was, he had expected the outcome. It was fortuitous that he had prepared a backup plan for where to direct his time and efforts, to help his surrogate daughter in another way.

“What do you think of this training room?”

“It’s great!” said Buffy, genuine enthusiasm glowing in her voice.

Giles brow furrowed as a thought struck him. He had rented the back room in the Magic Box for the evening, as he realized his place wasn’t suitable and there was nowhere else aside from one of the graveyards.

“Where do you and Spike train?”

“Oh, we do it everywhere,” said Buffy. Again, the response came with enthusiasm, then a blush, then swift back peddling. “I… I mean, work. We work out lots of places. Totally professional, all of the time.”

“Quite,” said Giles, wincing a little. “This… uh, this training room. It would be useful for you, if you had permanent access to it?”

“Sure, but how are we gonna get that?”

A smile appeared on the watcher’s lips. He let her in on his plans to buy the entire store.

“Wow, Giles!” said Buffy. “Awesome!”

The watcher was struck once again at just how much happier she’d become since uniting with Spike. More youthful, almost, but no less mature. Musings about how unlikely their relationship had initially been and how good a match it had turned out to be were interrupted by Buffy’s latest brainwave.

“Hey, maybe you could let him help out?” she said. “Lift boxes or something. Sort inventory. Or, uh… _anything_?”

Picking up on her badly veiled desperation, Giles asked what the matter was.

“Nothing,” she insisted. “He just gets bored, now that I’m at college… and he can’t be evil.” She hung her head at the last part, which made her watcher smile again.

“Buffy, there’s really no need to be bashful. I suppose it rather makes sense that he would feel at a loose end. And you shouldn’t feel shame for his past deeds. Hmm… the words ‘his’ and ‘past’ sum it up quite nicely, don’t you think?” he shook his head as if to clear it, then continued saying, “If anything, I’m impressed that he was able to stop his, ah… _activities_ , for you with such ease.”

Buffy’s shoulders visibly relaxed. She grinned at her father figure’s excess use of language, then waved off his words saying, “Spike stopped killing long before he came back.”

“Oh?” Giles’ eyebrows went up then swiftly knit together again. “Why?”

She gave a shrug and a wistful smile. “He didn’t think I’d find out, or that I’d believe him, but he did it anyway. Because I wouldn’t approve.”

“Extraordinary!”

“Not really,” Spike drawled, walking in the door. He turned to Buffy and lightly chastised her. “That was supposed to be private.”

“Oops?”

“S’okay,” he said, dropping a heavy kiss against her mouth. “So why am I up for discussion?”

“Giles is gonna buy the Magic Box. I was thinking maybe you could help him.”

“Wanna keep me occupied,” he said with a bob of his head. “Tough luck, kitten. Missed yer chance.”

Buffy balked, “Don’t tell me you got a job?!”

“’S that so surprising?”

“I… No. Well, yeah. Kinda, actually.”

Giles watched the exchange with interest. He was all too aware that from the moment the Vampire had walked in the room, his presence was no longer on the Slayer’s register. He could be dancing the jive in a tutu not five feet away and he was sure she wouldn’t notice. Filtering out his thoughts and listening again to the conversation playing out before him, he was able to gather that Spike had agreed to be a roadie for Oz’s band.

“Wolf’s got an amp shoved in the witch’s place, said I’d help him move it round to ours later. We can store other equipment there too, for a fee.”

“How much?”

Spike shrugged. “Not a lot,” he admitted.

“Well, I think it’s great,” Buffy decided.

Suddenly they were kissing again and, before Giles knew it, Spike – who was also seemingly unaware or uncaring of his presence – had backed Buffy up against the pommel horse and was eagerly groping at her. Cleaning his glasses, the watcher made a swift exit to the main store to examine the accounts.

Later, when Spike and Oz did go to Willow’s, they walked in on her kissing her roommate.


	21. Findings

Oz almost instantly began to wolf out at the sight of Willow and Tara caught in a tender embrace in front of him. Tara screamed and raised her hand to shoot him down, but Spike got there first and incapacitated him before there was need.

“Ladies,” he said, with a casual nod of his head, before dragging the werewolf back out the door.

The witches shared a look before Willow got to her feet to go after the guys. The phone stopped her in her tracks, though. Picking up, she found Buffy on the other end.

“What the heck just happened?” asked the anxious Slayer.

“I… umm…” mumbled the red head.

“I just got a whole bunch of garbled stuff from Spike’s head, _really_ fast, and he wanted me to call you… I think,” there was a pause on the line as Buffy processed a bit of what she experienced second hand. Willow was still stunned speechless when the Slayer continued with a summary. “General chit chat, music crap, kissing, danger, practical ways to hog tie a wolf, and damage control. Explain-y?”

“Oh, Buffy,” Willow exclaimed, before bursting into tears. Tara went to her side, but Willow flinched away from her touch.

The words ‘I’m coming over’ were on the tip of Buffy’s tongue, but they vanished the second her front door opened and Spike strode in carrying an unconscious, bound up Oz still very much in his canine guise.

“He might need some clothes,” said Spike in a distracted mumble.

His eyes had that faraway look that always made Buffy wonder what was going on in his head. Even with direct access to his thoughts, she still found some of them hard to focus on.

Hanging up the phone without a second thought, she went to her Mate. It seemed he was still processing the sharp change of events, too. And, as he did, the Slayer got a clearer picture of what happened.

“Poor Oz,” she sighed.

“Yeah,” Spike agreed, his brow furrowed. “Infidelity hurts like a bitch.”

 _Remembering_ , she realized, was what he had been doing. There was a surge of emotions passing through Spike that Buffy had first thought was an empathic response to what Oz was feeling, but it was more than that.

“What Dru did still hurts you,” she concluded.

Spike’s mind snapped back into gear at that, and he shook off the glazed look to give her a small grin. “Only when I think about it,” he said, before kissing Buffy to reassure her his ex-lover was gone from his mind once more.

 

Half-way through a conversation about how best to handle Oz when he came round, Giles arrived at Spike and Buffy’s apartment with his research on the First Slayer.

“It’s a shoddy misinterpretation at best,” he was saying, regarding what Spike had been told in the vision. “A blatant lie at worst. Intent to hurt. You see, the text says the balanced couple will _share_ the destiny of the lighter half. Not that the darker half will take it from her.”

“So this is a good thing?” Buffy clarified.

“Bloody hell,” Spike exclaimed. “Stupid bint tried to make me break the claim over something damn well helpful for us!”

“It would appear so,” Giles answered them both.

“I don’t think she likes you,” said Buffy.

“You don’t say,” Spike replied. “But how did you know not to trust her?”

“Instinct,” she said, which made him smile.

“God, I love you, Summers.”

“I know.” She grinned back at him. “So, a shared destiny, huh?” she directed her words back to her watcher. “What does that mean?”

“Now, that I haven’t come across yet,” he admitted. “I’m afraid the texts are unclear.”

“But the Powers that Be _do_ have a specific plan for us?” Buffy questioned. “How do we find out what it is if it’s not in some ancient book?”

“We wait until they’re ready to tell us,” Spike guessed.

Buffy frowned. “When are they likely to do that?”

“Oh, who the hell knows,” he griped. “In the meantime, I have a werewolf in a cage to deal with. If you’ll excuse me.”

As Spike got up to leave – after a parting kiss, of course – he slipped a disk into Buffy’s hand. She looked at him, but he just smiled and said nothing. The Slayer’s frown returned as she examined it: a CD, with no label. She excused herself to put it on.

A melody came out of the speakers. Just a single song. Nothing she recognized.

“What’s the significance of this?” Giles asked her, and she jumped, having forgotten he was still there. She hadn’t noticed him follow her into the room, and she scolded herself for it. It was becoming a habit to only have Spike on her radar.

“I don’t know,” she finally answered, the bizarre-ness of it bothering her.

 

Later, after Giles had left, Spike returned from checking on Oz.

“How is he?” Buffy asked.

“Back to bein’ human,” he replied. “Little shaken up. Sayin’ very little.”

“So unlike him.”

“Ha, yeah. Give ‘im some time. I said he could crash here.”

Buffy bobbed her head in agreement, then asked Spike about the disk he’d presented her with earlier.

He smiled at her triumphantly. “D’ya like it?”

“I guess,” she answered. Clearly the song meant something to him, and she was supposed to recognize it, but she was still drawing a total blank.

Her Mate looked a little crestfallen. “Took me weeks to hunt that down,” he said.

Buffy grimaced. “Sorry.”

“’s’okay,” he said, not the least bit convincing, before getting up to play it again. “Dance with me?”

Buffy agreed eagerly, taking hold of his offered hand. They had no problem finding their rhythm, as in sync as they were.

“See, that’s it!” Spike declared about half-way through, when the song had reached a key change and the Slayer had let go of him to put her hands above her head and let herself be taken by the sound.

“Huh?” she paused and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“This song right here, baby,” said Spike, dropping kisses across the exposed flesh of her throat that made her shudder with need. “It’s the one that was playing, first night I saw you. Was captivated from right then.”

“This song?” she repeated.

“This song,” he confirmed. “Was a live band, in The Bronze. You were dancing with the Whelp, all seductive like. God, I’ll never forget it.”

“I’m sorry I did.”

“’s’okay,” Spike said again, as he began kissing down the other side of her throat, over the claim mark he’d given her. “To be fair, you didn’ know I was there.”

“Mmm,” she breathed. “Spike.”

“Yes, luv?”

“Make love to me.”


	22. Nature

Stomach rumbling, Oz padded into Buffy and Spike’s kitchen in search of food. He could overhear an argument between the couple in the next room.

“I just can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Spike was saying.

“Is it really that big of a deal?” asked Buffy, exasperation in her voice.

An emphatic yes was the answer, apparently.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Buffy said finally.

“Am not!” Spike shot back, before realizing they weren’t alone. Walking to the doorway between the living room and kitchen, the Vampire then demanded of Oz why _he_ hadn’t said anything.

“Uh…” said the wolf, a piece of toast half way to his mouth.

“I mean, we’re mates, right?”

“I guess.”

“So why am I the last to know my bird was a soddin’ cheerleader?”

Oz frowned and Spike threw up his hands before turning back round to his lover.

She was shaking her head and smiling. “Ignore him,” she told Oz. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he answered, his eyes focused on Spike’s mug.

The Vampire gave him a knowing glance. “Want some?”

“Of course he doesn’t,” said Buffy.

“Uh, no. Thanks,” Oz said for himself, though he couldn’t stop taking little lungfuls of air in through his nose. Ignoring his Mate, Spike informed him that it was fine – pig’s blood, not human – but again Oz declined.

“Bloody hell, why does everyone have to be so damn difficult?” Spike exclaimed, his tone with an absence of mirth. “Here!” he took a pork chop that had been defrosting in the fridge and thrust it at the boy. “That socially acceptable enough for you?”

Oz gave a small, appreciative smile but before he could devour the meat, Buffy stepped in his way and snagged it from him.

“Spike, that’s raw!” she pointed out. When her Mate rolled his eyes, she tried to put her point another way. “It still has blood in it!”

Not able to take temptation a moment longer, Oz took his plate back and uttered a small “Thanks,” before tearing into it using only his hands and teeth.

Buffy’s mouth was agape.

“Was kinda the point, luv,” Spike said to her, a satisfied look on his face.

“Oh.”

 

Later, Spike and Oz sat down to talk about it. The boy seemed troubled.

“I don’t get why I became the wolf,” he admitted. “Why I have these cravings. Without the moon, I mean.”

Spike shook his head. “You didn’t become anything. The wolf is what you are. Soon as you understand that your life is gonna get a whole lot easier.”

Oz frowned but didn’t disagree with him.

“I’m a Vampire, right?” Spike continued. “A man with a demon. The Slayer’s a, well, Slayer. But she’s still a girl. I don’t know what everyone’s bloody fascination is with only being one thing or the other. Way I see it, we’re better this way.”

“Does Buffy agree with you?” Oz asked.

Spike gave a shrug. “She’s startin’ to.”

“You’re training her?”

“Yeah. Can sort you, too, if you want.”

“Don’t think I need battle skills.”

Spike shook his head again. “It ain’t about that. Not mostly. It’s about–”

“Embracing your true nature,” Buffy finished for him, having just walked into the room and caught their conversation. “In my case that works,” she continued. “Because, hello! Warrior of light. I’m really not sure that’s best for either of you.”

“Damnit!” Spike exclaimed, getting up and punching a wall.

Buffy took a step back, genuinely shocked at his sudden rage. “What–” she began to ask.

“I thought you were smarter than that!” Spike snapped.

Buffy’s hands went to her hips. “What the hell does that mean?”

Oz was about to have a ringside seat to an argument completely unlike the one earlier in the day. “Guys…” he said, but they were glaring at each other so intensely he may as well have vanished.

“Spike, why are you pissed? And taking it out on the furniture? And me!”

“Because apparently you’ve learnt nothing in the time we’ve been together. You think my nature – a fundamental part of me is irrevocably wrong.”

“Well…” said Buffy, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “No.”

“Yeah, you do. It’s what you said. Sweetheart, I’m only as evil as I wanna be.”

“You, yeah. But not your demon. Or any other vamps.”

“I am my demon, Buffy!” Spike yelled.

“Uh, guys,” Oz tried again.

Spike pointed to him saying, “He is too.”

“No,” Buffy replied, her face hard. Feeling how hurt Spike was really cut at her. “You’re not evil. Either of you. I wasn’t saying–”

“You were saying that all demons are evil.”

“But you don’t count!” she argued.

“Why?” Spike countered.

“Because you’re not evil, duh!”

Utterly at the end of his tether, Spike stomped from the room. Buffy’s instinct told her to go after him, but as soon as she went to move he sent her a forceful mental message to give him some space. She flounced down on the couch next to Oz and rubbed her temples instead.


	23. Reunion

Not ten minutes after their argument, Spike and Buffy were unable to bear the tension, or the ache of their shared bond, any longer. Spike opened the bedroom door to go apologize and found Buffy on the other side, preparing to knock. Without a word, they embraced and stayed tightly wrapped together for a long while.

Finally, Spike said, “We gotta work through this, all rational-like. ‘Cause I’m still bloody mad at you, but I can’t leave you alone.”

“I know,” agreed Buffy, her voice a choked whisper. “Me too.”

He pulled her inside the room and they made love, as much to satisfy the bond as it was to satisfy their physical bodies and give them a release of all the pent up angst. Afterwards, when they held each other, Spike whispered further apologies into her hair.

“Shouldn’t have exploded like that,” he said.

“I’m sorry that what I said–” replied Buffy, pausing to correct herself, “That what I _think_ , is so upsetting to you.”

Spike sighed. The point he’d been trying to get across was very important to him, but he wasn’t sure how to explain it without risking another argument.

“Wait a minute,” he said, holding up a hand.

“What?”

“Idea.”

“Yeah, I got that. Get pretty much all your ideas, unless you forgot, I just don’t _get it_ get it.”

Spike frowned. “Who taught you how to speak English?”

Buffy swatted him on the arm. “Explain-y?

“The first Slayer. Yer Watcher ever tell you how the bint came about?”

Buffy’s brow creased as she thought about it. “Not during a conversation I was paying attention to,” she said, finally.

“Hmm… Do you think he knows?”

She shrugged. “Why is it important?”

“Because I sensed something dark in her that time in the vision. Couldn’t put my finger on it at the time.”

“Dark as in evil? No.” Buffy shook her head. “The Slayer line was not born out of evil.”

Sighing in exasperation, Spike pointed out that he said dark, not evil, and that they did _not_ have to be the same thing. “If I’m right then that proves it, once and for all.”

Buffy considered it. The whole topic kinda made her head hurt, but she vowed to ask Giles about it.

 

Upon being asked, the watcher simply recited his favorite text about the Slayer being one girl in all the world to fight “the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness; to stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their number.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and said, “Yeah, so I get that she came about, and why, but _how_ , specifically.”

Giles frowned. “The, uh, specific details are somewhat unclear.”

“Great,” sighed Buffy, who then almost instantly brightened up again. “Hey, this means that you didn’t already tell me and I just wasn’t listening.”

The frown on Giles’ face deepened. “Why are you asking these things?”

“Oh,” she waved a hand. “Just some theory Spike has.” Honestly, she didn’t want to go into it, but the expectant look on Giles’ face led her to continue. “He said that when he came across the first Slayer, in the dream vision thing, that he could sense something dark within her. And he thinks maybe she was given her powers by way of darkness, or… something. It didn’t make much sense to me, and I know what you’re going to say. Slayers are all good, and would never–”

“Spike may well be right,” Giles interjected.

“Huh?”

“Well, I’m sure the first Slayer did not come about by accident. Her power would need an origin and, is often the case with these things, if you want to fight something you need to fight it on its own terms.”

“Fire with fire?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“So a Slayer really is a killer,” said Buffy, mostly to herself, but Giles replied anyway.

“No,” he said, gently. “And even if she were born partially out of darkness, that does not make her evil. Far from it.”

Buffy’s headache had increased ten fold. “I just don’t get it, Giles.”

He nodded sympathetically. “There are rumors of a relic that tells the story of the first Slayer’s origin, but when it was not passed onto me I assumed it was no more than just that – a rumor. Perhaps if I tracked down when it was last mentioned, I could– yes, yes, I’ll do that.”

Buffy smiled at her watcher’s enthusiasm at having a mission. “Okay, so if Slayers were made outta darkness, that doesn’t make them bad?” she clarified a final time.

“You know it doesn’t.”

“Okay.” She still had to think about that a little more.

 

Oz stopped by the Magic Box for a charm that would help both elements of himself live in harmony. After Giles assisted him, the musician went to see Willow.

“So, you’re better now?” she inquired.

“I think I am,” he said, idly fiddling with his new bracelet. “I can control my true nature, if I try hard enough. But what about yours?”

“M-my true nature?” Willow stammered.

“Your tendency to cheat on me.”

She swallowed. “Oh. That.”


	24. Resolution

Buffy returned to the apartment to find Spike waiting for her. That was not an unusual occurrence, of course, but this time he had a grin on his face and was crowing about Giles agreeing with his theory, having heard the conversation second hand, via the claim.

“He was talking about the Slayer bit, not about the ‘all demons not necessarily being evil’ thing,” Buffy pointed out.

Instantly, the smile fell from Spike’s face, and the Slayer realized she’d messed up again. “Keep tryin’ to tell you it’s the same bloody principal!” he yelled.

Buffy took his hand and guided him to the couch, then asked him to explain it again.

“But we’ve been through it,” he sighed. “An’ as strange as this sounds, I don’ wanna fight you.”

Buffy waved her free hand dismissively at the thought of another argument. “One more time. I’ll be open-minded.”

With a pout, he asked if she promised, and she did. “Tell me about _you_ ,” she requested. “It’ll make sense that way.” Spike looked at her in confusion and she clarified, “Don’t talk about concepts. Forget about the bigger picture for a minute. You said you were as evil as you want to be. That bit seems to compute. Start there.”

“Right, okay,” he paused, then “Right,” he said again. “It’s like, I’ve always known the difference between right an’ wrong, right? Undead or not. Bein’ a vamp jus’ doesn’t make you care about the difference very much. You have desires for the bad so that’s what you do. Follow yer blood, init. But it’s not by force. There’s still a choice. Evil’s jus’ the easier road. You need motivation to go against it.”

Buffy nodded. His words seemed to make sense, at least on the surface. She knew he didn’t have a soul, yet could do good things. Still didn’t relate to the rest of her worldview, though. “Where does that leave me with other vampires?” she asked.

“Same place as always. You stake ‘em dead. Don’t give them the benefit of the doubt.”

She frowned. “But that doesn’t seem fair.”

“Because it’s not, but unless you want more dead bodies around, it’s the way things have to be. Look, I know the wanker’s council like to tell you things are black and white. And I can see why, okay? If you stop to wonder if a demon could be good years down the road every time you’re in battle, you’re gonna get killed right quick.”

Buffy groaned. She understood what he was getting at now, but she didn’t like it. “Demons: evil until proven innocent?” she asked, in summary.

Spike smiled at her. “Yeah, pet. Think that’s a good way to think on it.”

“Right, ‘cause it implies that they can be good – can do good things – but that I should be wary of them until I know what team they’re on for sure. And when you talk about embracing your true nature it’s not about evil, it’s about strength. Power ‘n’ stuff.”

Spike’s grin grew wider at her words, which she took as confirmation. With a deep sigh of relief, she said, “I think I can work with that. Do I get a cookie?”

“You can have anything you want, baby,” Spike crooned. Clearly he was very, _very_ , pleased with her.

 

Across town, in the student dorms, Oz and Willow were having a heart to heart of a different nature. Willow didn’t know what to say to explain her actions to her boyfriend, or even if that was still what he was. Even in her head it just sounded like pathetic excuses.

“I’m sorry,” were the words she finally opted for.

“You’re not,” said Oz, who then instantly corrected himself. “Well, that it hurt me, yeah. But not that it happened.”

She didn’t reply, knowing was right. A smart guy who had time to do a little thinking was a powerful thing.

“It’s okay,” he continued, then shook his head. “Or, not okay, exactly but… I think I understand.”

“Really?” asked Willow, not sure even she understood what was happening between them. The attraction she felt for Tara came out of nowhere, and it was strong, but it didn’t diminish what she felt for Oz at all.

He was still talking – telling her about this other wolf he met, that he instinctively wanted to go after. She didn’t want to hear it, of course, but she needed to. And after what she’d done, she deserved the pain of his words.

“The thing is, I _didn’t_ follow my blood. And not because of you, really,” his brow knit together before continuing. “I mean, it was because of what you did – I didn’t want to hurt you like that. I knew what it felt like – but if that hadn’t happened, I think I might have. Because it just felt so right, you know? And it didn’t seem to have anything to do with what we have.”

“What are you saying?” Willow asked, her voice trembling. She wished that if he was going to end things he would just do it already and not drag it out. Though, again, she conceded that she deserved as much.

“I think I’m saying I know how hard it is to have urges.”

She swallowed. “Okay…”

“I’m wondering,” Oz continued, “If you’re built to be in a relationship with a single person. And that has me wondering if there’s actually anything intrinsically wrong with that. Your nature’s your nature, right? Maybe you shouldn’t fight it.”

“Oz, I don’t–”

He held up a hand to stop her and carried on. “This is what I know: I don’t want to lose you, and I believe that you love me. And what I think is that you maybe love Tara, too. I think that I’ve known that since you first met. That it’s something beyond both of you. And I don’t want to fight that, so…”

“So?” Willow questioned, her breath held.

“So,” he concluded, not really looking at her and with his brow still knit together in concentration, “I’m wondering if, maybe, you could have both.”


	25. Family

Willow searched her boyfriend’s eyes and only found sincerity. “An open relationship? I– is that what you’re suggesting?” she questioned.

Oz shook his head, and her brow furrowed.

“Then what, exactly?”

“It’d be closed,” said Oz, “but… just the three of us.”

“Oh.” Willow stood up and started pacing.

The strangeness of the situation wasn’t lost on the wolf – trying to convince his girlfriend of something that would mostly be in her favor, for the sake of saving what they already had.

“Oz, I don’t know about this,” Willow said, finally. He reached out his hand to her, and got her to sit back down with him.

Placing his other hand gently on the side of her head he said, “Forget about what you think. All those thoughts – shut them out. What do you feel?”

She shut her eyes as she admitted, “I want this.”

“And what do you want?”

“Huh?” Willow opened her eyes again to see Oz was addressing the door.

“Tara, I know you’re there,” he said. To which the door opened, and Tara hesitantly joined them in the room.

“I, uh… I didn’t w-w-want to interrupt,” she said, her eyes focused on the floor.

“It’s okay,” Oz told her, lifting his hand from Willow’s face and reaching out to her. Tara took it and they all sat on the bed together.

“You feel it too,” said Oz, continuing. It wasn’t a question, really, but she nodded.

“Our, um, our auras all kinda fit.”

That made them all smile.

“Are we really gonna do this?” asked Willow. “Do people even do this?”

“Well, we’re both witches, and he’s a werewolf, so I’m not sure we count as conventional people anyway,” Tara reasoned.

“Right,” Oz agreed, with a single nod of his head. “So we do this. Or, we try.”

 

\---

 

Giles had been successful in his mission of tracking down the ‘Slayer Emergency Kit’ with a family member of a previous Slayer in New York. He’d had it shipped overnight, and now everyone had gathered in the Magic Box to see what was inside.

Before they could get to it, though, Tara’s father and brother arrived and tried to take her away by force. Instinctively, Oz protected her and made clear she belonged with him and Willow. After the family members left again, there was some explaining to do, which they hadn’t intended on. The three of them had come to a combined decision to keep their arrangement quiet, at least for the time being, but it seemed that was no longer an option.

“So you’re…” Xander gestured between the three of them. “You all are like, together? All of you.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Willow. “It’s a little complicated.”

“How does the sex work?” asked Anya, to which both witches turned bright red and looked at the floor.

“We… w-w-we don’t–” Tara stammered.

“Tara and Oz don’t, uh…” Willow continued for her. “It’s kinda like me and Tara. And me and Oz, but–”

“I’m really not sure this is your business,” Oz interjected to say.

Spike never said anything, but he was disappointed the topic was closed. Buffy gave him a small dig in the ribs for that.

“Well, I think it’s great!” Xander decided.

“Really?” asked Buffy.

“Sure, I mean, as long as everybody’s happy, why wouldn’t I be?”

Buffy couldn’t reply, so Spike chipped in with, “Because you’re usually a judgmental bastard.” The Slayer tried to nudge him again, but he moved out of the way.

Buffy shrugged. “Yeah, no offense, Xander, but kinda that.”

“I’m not judgmental!” he protested.

“Of course you are,” Anya affirmed.

“Can we focus on the unconventional three-way relationship that’s in the process of coming out instead of on me?” said Xander, his eyes panicked.

“Ah, there it is,” Spike murmured, before turning fully to face Buffy and directing his words to her. “If you don’t keep your arms out of my ribs I’m gonna pin them back and give you a good–”

“Hey! Who wants pizza?” a suddenly very flustered Slayer asked. She was sure she wasn’t the only one with an extremely interesting mental image. “Let’s crack the magic box open already.” She gulped, floundering. “I, uh, I mean the little magic box, not the building.”

“I should think so,” Giles affirmed her correction. “Pizza or Emergency Kit, which is first?”


	26. Shared Destiny

After pizza, hesitation, and impatience in equal measures, it was finally time to crack open the mysterious Slayer Emergency Kit. Part of Buffy felt it was a little unnecessary seeing as they weren’t in an actual emergency, and that the reasons to track it down had been mostly resolved without it, but a greater part of her wanted answers regardless.

As she stood there, about to flip the box open, she was glad Spike was at her back, feeling the same cocktail of emotions she was. Resting a hand on her shoulder, he took in a deep breath in time with Buffy as she delicately lifted the lid…

 

With a flash of light, Buffy and Spike vanished from the room and immediately found themselves transported to another plain, face to face with what outwardly seemed to be an old lady in white flowing robes.

Before either of them could open their mouth to ask, she informed them she was a Guardian of the Slayer Line – the very last of her kind.

There was a smile in her eyes as she said, “You are full of questions.”

“We are,” Spike affirmed, though she hadn’t been addressing him.

“You are full of love,” the Guardian continued – again, only speaking to Buffy.

“Yeah, kinda keep hearing that,” she replied, her tone a little irritated.

“Life is your gift.”

Buffy scrunched up her nose. “Okay, that bit’s new.”

“But what does it mean?” Spike asked, which finally got the Guardian to look him in the eye, if only to shake her head at him. Unlike his Mate, Spike’s irritation was not slight. Just as he was about to snap at the Guardian, she started speaking again.  

“Before we discuss the future, let us look back. You wish to know your origin.”

Buffy nodded and gripped Spike’s hand – as much to calm her apprehension as to soothe his irritation.

They shared a vision.

In an instant, they saw the First Slayer receiving her power, and it was swiftly followed by a firm declaration from Buffy that it was wrong. Spike was worried she’d reverted back to her heavily ingrained stance of thinking anything that came from darkness was evil, but his fears fell away as she continued.

“Chaining her down like that? Against her will. It was _wrong_!”

“Indeed, it was not the best way for the first watchers to work,” admitted the Guardian, “But they always do seem to find the worst ways of doing things.”

Buffy couldn’t disagree with her there. Placated, she cut off the rest of her rant.

“Had you not gained power from uniting with your Vampire Mate, I would have offered you further strength via similar means, but it is not now necessary,” said the Guardian. “You have everything you need, but I do bring you something more.”

Moving to the side, she revealed a scythe implanted in a big rock that stood behind her. “Call it an extra. To help you with what’s to come.”

“And what’s to come?” Buffy asked, her wide eyes as she reached out to touch the weapon that was calling out to her. She hadn’t really expected an answer, and definitely not one that wasn’t cryptic, so the Slayer was pleasantly surprised when the Guardian told her outright: “Ahead there is a girl you must protect, and a hellgod that you must defeat. When you find the dagonsphere, you’ll know the latter is on her way. This is to be your shared destiny.”

“The girl, who is she?” asked Spike.

“An innocent. Her name is Dawn, and you are to treat her as a daughter, for that is what she shall believe herself to be. Your memories will be altered, so you know the past as she will recall it, but you will also keep your awareness that it is false. Whether you chose to reveal reality to the girl is your choice.”

Spike nodded as he tried to process all of what he’d heard. He knew without question that he and Buffy were going to accept the responsibility, and the thought of being a dad – even by mystical means – worried him. Buffy was still distracted by her scythe, however.

“Bloody hell, jus’ take it out already,” he exclaimed. “We gotta get back and meet the sprog.”

“Sprog?” she questioned, as she removed the weapon with ease.

“British slang. Means kid.”

“Kid? There’s a kid now.”

Spike grimaced, suddenly realizing she’d zoned out while listening to the last part the guardian had told them.

“Bloody good thing I was here,” he muttered. “Got a bombshell to drop on you on the way home, Goldilocks.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Part Three: Segue to Surreal**

The Next Adventure

Spike hesitantly slid his key in the lock of his and Buffy’s front door and slowly pushed it open to reveal a girl – Dawn, he assumed – stood there, with her arms crossed, tapping her foot.

“Where were you?” she asked in a huff.

“Bloody hell,” Spike exclaimed. “She’s a bitty Buffy.”

The girl gave him an odd look in response, then stomped off towards the kitchen.

“I was expecting a baby,” said Buffy.

“Me too,” admitted Spike. “She’s like, what? Five?”

Before Buffy could answer, the extra set of memories they were promised downloaded into their brains. “Three,” she could say, then, with certainty. “Four in two weeks.”

There was silence as they took it in. Then they looked at each other.

“Ready for the next adventure?” Spike asked after the pause.

“I think I would have preferred the yearly apocalypse,” replied Buffy, only half-jokingly.

She followed the girl into the kitchen, where she found her rooting through the fridge – pushing bags of blood aside, like it was perfectly normal – in search of yoghurt, apparently.

“Yes!” she declared in triumph as she waved her find in the air. “Mommy, can I have a spoon?”

Gulping at her new title, Buffy mumbled, “Uh, sure,” as she retrieved the item from a drawer Dawn couldn’t reach and handed it to her.

Spike stood in the doorway, staring at the simple exchange. After a deep breath in through his nose, he silently asked Buffy to join in the other room.

“This is totally weird,” she exclaimed, once out of earshot of the toddler.

Spike nodded and bit his lip.

“What’s up?”

“Dawn. She’s…”

“What?” Buffy asked again, worry flooding her.

“Well, that’s the thing, init? We don’ know.” Buffy frowned, and Spike continued, “She’s, uh – bloody hell. Yeah, beyond weird is right – but, well, she smells like us.”

Buffy’s frown deepened. “What does that mean?”

“Dawn was made genetically ours. Bit’s got our DNA.”

“Oh, God!” Buffy exclaimed. “I really am a mom.”

“Yeah,” said Spike, finally shaking off the last of his shock and allowing a grin to cross his face. “That you are, Pet.”

She began to say something, but Spike pulled her against his chest and reassured her fears before she got them out.

“We can do this,” he said, his voice firm.

“But–”

“We can do this. I promise, Slayer. We can.”

Buffy nodded, took a deep breath, and said, “Okay.” She was going to ask what they should do first, but was then interrupted by the girl in question.

“What’s wrong?” Dawn asked them.

“Nothin’,” Spike assured her, crouching down to her level. Buffy couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face when Dawn reached up and put her arms around his neck and buried her head against the curve of his neck. He stood up again, holding her to him, and wrapped his free arm around Buffy.

Overwhelmed by the deep sense of family in that moment, the Slayer affirmed her Mate’s earlier words with a small smile.

“We can do this.”


	28. Long Day, Lots to Do

“I can’t do this!” Buffy yelled.

“Hush now,” said Spike, pulling her into a tight embrace. “It’ll be fine.”

“How will it be fine? I burnt breakfast, you burnt yourself rescuing Mr Gordo from the front lawn during high noon, we have three pre-schools to visit, a birthday party to plan, and I totally hate the thought of my little girl being away from me all day. Oh, oh, and finals!” she shook her head before looking at him seriously, like she was pleading for her life. “Spike, I can’t do it!”

“Buffy,” he began, a wide smile on his face.

She pouted, annoyed that he wasn’t taking her seriously, but too tired to yell anymore. “What?”

“You jus’ called her your little girl.”

“No, I–” Buffy took a breath. “I did, didn’t I?”

Spike smiled even wider. “See, I told you you’d bond.”

Buffy scoffed. “Yeah, not like you Mr I’m-a-natural-parent-type. What’s up with that anyway?”

Spike held her even closer and laid a kiss on her forehead. “Will you stop frettin’, please?”

“But–” Buffy’s protest was interrupted by giggles. Both she and Spike looked down to see Dawn staring back at them with a mischievous grin half hidden behind a slightly singed Mr Gordo.

“You two are in _loooove_!” she crooned, before breaking into more giggles.

Spike smiled at her – the same smile they both had, that was both the same and different from how he smiled at Buffy – and reached down to pick her up. “Yeah, Niblet. Me an’ yer mum here love each other very much.”

“I like love,” said Dawn, “But not boys. They’re dumb.”

“Oi!” Spike looked mock offended.

“You don’t count,” Dawn informed him confidently, with a roll of her eyes as if he was ridiculous to ever think otherwise.

Spike stifled a laugh. “Well, that’s all right then, init?”

Dawn giggled again. “You talk funny.”

“Yeah, an’ you look funny,” he shot back.

Dawn’s pudgy hand went to her hip. “Nu-uh! You said I look like Mommy, and Mommy’s the most beautiful mommy ever.”

Buffy, who had been silent during the exchange, was smiling at both of them while trying to hold back a wayward tear.

Dawn looked up at her, attitude dissolving in an instant. “Mommy, are you okay?”

“Yes, Dawnie, I’m fine,” Buffy assured her. “Today’s a big day. We’ve got lots to do!”

Dawn nodded, decidedly ready to go out and face the busy day ahead, only pausing when the phone rang. Having one arm still wrapped around Buffy and the other one busy holding Dawn, Spike swore as he awkwardly reached for the handset.

Buffy slapped his arm lightly, making him fumble more, and shot him a look.

“Daddy said a bad word!” Dawn stage-whispered to her.

“Bugger,” said Spike. “Sorry.” Dawn took hold of the phone and held it to his face. “Hello?”

“Spike! You’re there! Are you and Buffy alright?”

“Sure, watcher, what’s up?”

“What’s _up_?! You were swept up into a portal yesterday and no one’s heard from either of you since!”

“Oh,” Spike paused. “Er, right…”

Recognizing the voice, Dawn called out to her surrogate grandfather with glee: “Gilesie!”

“Ssshh, pet,” Spike told her, softly, but Giles had already heard her.

“Oh, good, Dawn’s there,” he said. “Do tell her I said hello. Where was I? Yes, the portal – wait. Who had Dawn yesterday while you were here?”

“Err…” Spike bit his lip and looked at Buffy, who then took the phone from him.

“Uh, hi Giles. Can we talk later? We’ve gotta go visit pre-schools today.”

“Yes, yes, quite right. As long as all is well we can catch up later. Perhaps I’ll pop in after I–”

Thinking on her feet, Buffy interrupted to say, “No. It’s fine. We’ll come by the shop after we’re done.” She hung up before he had a chance to reply. Spike looked at her, hoping for some kind of plan, and she told him silently that what they had discussed the previous night would work best at the shop.

He nodded, then noticed Dawn was looking at them oddly.

“How comes you always do that?” she asked.

“Do what, Niblet?”

“Do the talky thing without words.”

“It’s our superpower, init? Now why don’t you go find a lovely dress for Mr Gordo here.”

“Okay, Daddy!” said Dawn, giving both her parents a kiss on the cheek before being set down and scampering away.

“I hope this goes well,” said Buffy.


	29. Taking Charge

“You’re sure the shop is the best place for this? Shouldn’t it be all private, like?”

“I’m sure,” said Buffy. “It’ll be more private than at home. There’s always someone in the Magic Box.”

Spike stopped walking and looked at her. “Not sure I followed you round that bend, love.”

Buffy glanced round to make sure Dawn hadn’t skipped too far off in front and, when she was satisfied that the girl was also not close enough to hear anything, she looked back at him. “We’ve been over this.”

“We have,” Spike allowed. “As in, you told me the plan; didn’t exactly stop for the whys and wherefores. I’m jus’ following your lead.”

Buffy sighed. She couldn’t blame him for asking, and she appreciated the support, the least she could do is actually _try_ and form a coherent explanation from the fog that her brain had become. “If the Scoobys are there, they can distract her while we talk to Giles,” she said. “There’s less risk of her eavesdropping.”

“Ah.” Spike nodded, getting it. “Still think telling Rupes is the best thing?”

Buffy bit her lip and trained her eye back on Dawn. “I think. I hope. Are you sure he said it was yesterday that we went through the portal?”

Spike resumed walking. “It’s what he said.”

“Huh,” said Buffy, following on; going with the flow; doing all she could do to keep it together.

“Guardian chit must’a done some extra mojo to give us time to settle in before the rest of the world caught up,” Spike theorized.

“I guess,” said Buffy. “It feels weird, though. That we didn’t notice, I mean. People, or demons, guardians – whatever – could be messing with our lives all the time and we wouldn’t know.”

“That really what’s got you wound up?”

She shook her head. “Spike, a week ago – which was also apparently yesterday for everyone else – I became a first-time mother to a three-year-old alongside my undead Vampire Mate. _Everything_ has got me wound up!”

He took a firm hold of her hand. “Fair point. Jus’ relax. Watcher will know what’s going on.”

 

\---

 

“I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea what either of you are talking about.”

Buffy and Spike shared a look before the Slayer tried again. “Giles, think about it, Dawn’s almost four. I’ve been with Spike less than a year. And vampires can’t even have kids.”

The watcher’s eyes grew wide, and he cursed himself for not seeing it before.

Buffy laid a hand on his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

He slumped in a chair. “I always imagined her like a grandchild. Or, at least, I thought I did.”

“I know,” said Buffy, softly. She hated to see that look in eyes, especially when she’d been the one to cause it. He lost the love of his life because of her evil ex-boyfriend, who she turned evil. She caused him to get fired from his main job, and literally blew up his second one. She saw how he struggled to find purpose afterwards, when they’d stopped training together, and now she was ripping this away from him too. “I’m sorry.”

Refocusing his eyes, Giles looked back at her. “Not your fault,” he said, putting on a brave face.

“Yeah,” said Buffy, her voice still quiet. She didn’t actually agree, though couldn’t bring herself to outright argue with him. Deep down, she was swimming in guilt.

“Hey now,” said Spike, pulling her back to her feet and holding her tightly to his chest. “Don’t start all that.”

Giles stared at them both, clearly not comprehending what they were talking about. He should be used to that happening, but he wasn’t. “Buffy? What’s wrong? Is there more?”

Spike went to answer for her, but she shook her head. “I’m sorry I can’t be a real daughter for you; a good one, who can give you real grandkids.”

“Oh, Buffy!” Giles exclaimed, gripping her hand. “You give so much for the world – for me – more than we deserve.”

Buffy smiled, but it was a sad one, and Spike shifted uncomfortably. He hadn’t prepared for a heart to heart to happen in front of him. Seemingly sensing his unease and feeling charitable, Giles pushed aside his feelings and got down to the practicalities. “What happens once this is all over?”

“What do you mean?” asked Buffy.

“When this is over. Dawn – the key. Will she, that is, _it_ –“ the watcher fumbled with his words further when Spike growled. “Sorry. Will _Dawn_ still be with us?”

“Oh my god! I don’t know.” Buffy turned to Spike, suddenly terrified. “I hadn’t even thought about that. They can’t take her away again!”

“No, they can’t,” he agreed. “We won’t let them. It’ll be fine, Pet.”

For all of his assurances, which she did greatly appreciate, Buffy knew he didn’t feel as certain as he made out. She reached out and gripped his hand with her free one before turning back to Giles.

“Tell me you’ll find something?” she pleaded.

The watcher nodded. “Are you going to tell Joyce?”

Spike and Buffy looked at each other as they considered it. After a moment, they said, “No,” in unison.

Giles nodded once more and said, “I think that’s for the best.”

Three sets of eyes turned towards Willow and Tara playing with Dawn in the corner.

“She loves to laugh,” Buffy commented, before looking away again. “We have to keep her safe, and we have to keep her. No one else can know.”

“How long d’ya think it’ll be before they figure it out on their own?” Spike wondered aloud.

“Hopefully long enough for us to have a real plan.”

Giles looked at his surrogate daughter and her Mate proudly. “You’re dealing with this remarkably well.”

“Trust me, I’m not,” said Buffy. “I feel like Spike’s holding me together.”

“You’re doin’ fine,” he assured her. “An’ it’s my job. You do the same for me.”

This time when the Slayer smiled, there was warmth behind it. She stood up. “Giles, research. You-” she addressed Spike again, shamelessly. “Private moment in the training room; then home for food, bath, and bedtime. We decide on a preschool – though they all kinda suck – and put Willow in charge of birthday plans.”

Spike smirked at her. “I do love it when you take charge, Pet.”

Giles mumbled his agreement with the general plan while he busied himself with wiping his glasses in an attempt to distract himself from whatever Buffy and Spike were planning to do to his training room – again. “Err, right-o, I’m just going to say hello to Dawn.”

“Your granddaughter,” Spike corrected him.

“Quite right,” said Giles.

They went to work.


	30. Party Stress

It was two real weeks from they’d got Dawn – three if you included the weird time warp one, which they did – the day of Dawn’s birthday, which happened to coincide with Buffy having two essays due and an exam to sit.

She was sat at the computer switching between cramming for the test and re-writing her final paragraph for the fifteenth time. Spike was trying to calm her down, but it wasn’t working.

“Will you just get off me!” she snapped. “I don’t have time for this, and I bet you haven’t even done the dishes.”

Shaking off his initial pangs of rejection, Spike tried again. “Pet,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and beginning to massage them.

At first Buffy moaned a little at his touch, but then she pushed him away again. “Not now! Don’t you listen?!”

“I’m just trying to–”

“I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not helping!”

“Fine. Know what? Bugger this!”

“Where are you going?”

“Willie’s. See you at the party later.”

“Don’t forget to pick up the–” the rest of her reminder was cut off by the sound of the front door slamming. Buffy sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I deserved that,” she muttered to herself, glad Dawn wasn’t around to witness it. Four-year-olds were so sensitive. The Slayer sighed again, then tried to send an apology through the link she had with Spike.

“Love you,” he replied, “But you can be a damn stroppy chit.”

She stopped talking to him again then groaned. None of her last-minute studying was going in at all.

Deciding that a break might be for the best after all, Buffy went in search of coffee and found that not only had the dishes been washed and put away, but there was already a half-made cup of coffee on the counter that Spike had clearly been in the process of making for her. He never drank the stuff, himself; it was only ever blood, tea, or alcohol of some kind.

The added guilt really just topped off her negative feelings. She thought about asking him to come back and offer her some much-needed stress relief of the ‘the-kid’s-not-around-and-we-could-get-naked’ variety, but she wasn’t quite finished wallowing.

Picking up the cup and resisting the urge to smash it against a wall, Buffy gently placed it in the sink and got out a clean one.

There wasn’t really time for frantic stressed-out sex anyway.

 

\---

 

All of her academic tasks completed – though she wasn’t sure how _well_ completed – Buffy moved into the domestic part of her day. Joyce had just dropped off Dawn before going out again to pick up some “last minute things.” Buffy interpreted that as more birthday presents and cringed internally. Everyone was spoiling Dawn and, while that wasn’t really a problem in itself, the Slayer felt inadequate in what she and Spike could afford to give her in comparison. Trying to ignore that, she let herself be consumed with the frustration of not being able to braid the girl’s hair properly.

“Mommy,” Dawn began, from where she was sat with her back to her.

Buffy’s hands stilled. “Yeah?” she said, the use of her full title matched with the tone of voice having immediately put her on high alert.

“Do you love me?”

Buffy did a double take as her brain kind of turned off and on again in surprise. ‘Of course I do!’ seemed the obvious response, whether it was true or not, but she demanded of herself the real answer. Dawn was literally part her and part Spike, and Buffy knew she had a strong desire to protect her that went far beyond the usual burden of her duty. She also knew that, while she had a set of false memories that Dawn shared, there were no fabricated feelings for her. What Buffy felt for Dawn was real and, in that moment, she realized that what she felt _was_ love.

“Of course I do,” she answered finally, before giving up on the braids entirely and curling her daughter in her arms.

“I love you too,” said Dawn, “And Daddy.”

Buffy forced a smile as she felt her heart melt and dribble out her chest as she resisted the urge to cry. For all her complaining and apprehension, she realized she already had everything in life that really mattered, and suddenly felt ridiculous for ever wanting more. Feelings of love came at her from Spike, wherever he was, and Dawn started laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“You feel all warm and fuzzy. I like hugs.”

 _Huh_ , thought Buffy. _That’s interesting_. “Dawnie, can you always tell when Mommy and Daddy are doing the silent talky thing?”

She nodded and Buffy swallowed. “But you don’t know what we’re saying?” she asked, the fingers of one hand crossing behind her back.

Dawn shook her head and stated quite eloquently, “There are feels.”

Buffy blew out a sigh of relief. So, the feelings she and Spike sent each other through the claim were a tangible thing. That was new information. She now wondered if Dawn was the only one to already know.

Standing up, Buffy shuffled her off to her room. “I just gotta make a call to Giles real quick.”

“Okay. Tell him not to miss my party, or I’ll send Daddy to bite him.”

Buffy snickered and muttered under her breath about Spike being more of a veal kind of guy, happy that Dawn had wandered out of earshot.

 

\---

 

Spike arrived home an hour or so before the party was due to start and swept Buffy into his arms, eternally grateful that she didn’t push him away. He was going to say something, but Buffy kind of attacked his lips and the words were lost.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, after pulling their mouths apart only to pepper his cheeks with kisses in between each apology.

“If I forgive you does that mean you’ll stop? Because if so I might stay mad a while longer.”

Buffy grinned. “I love you. And I’m sorry. Not sure if you picked up on that.”

Spike shook his head matched with a soft exclamation of, “Daft bint.”

“Did you pick up the–?”

“Yes. Hush, now. Everything’s fine. Where is my girl?”

Buffy worried her lip, and he looked at her. “What?”

“Nothing. She’s in her room it’s just, well…” she looked away. “I thought I was your girl.”

Spike barked out a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of the kid. She’s only mine because she’s made out of you, an’ you’re my soddin’ everything.”

Buffy blushed, then blurted out, “Do you love her?”

“Of course I love ‘er,” he affirmed, not missing a beat. Buffy knew instinctively that he meant it, and it made her love _him_ just that little bit more. She didn’t think it possible, but on a regular basis she found her love could go deeper and deeper still.

“Come to bed,” she said.

“Best not,” said Spike. “As much as I can’t believe ‘m saying this, guests are arriving soon, and we’ve got one hell of an inquisitive offspring. Not sure how many times we can get away with telling her we’re fighting monsters that live under our bed during the night, and that she needs to steer clear.”

“Sshhh!” said Buffy. “At least like another three times.”

Spike chuckled and kissed her cheek. “I’m gonna go say hello to my princess and then start cutting cake before a certain wound up Slayer has my head. Why don’t you have a quick soak?”

Buffy reluctantly let him go. “Okay.”

When she exited the bathroom thirty minutes later, she found Dawn donning an extremely neat and very complicated looking French Braid that had ‘ _William the Big Softie_ ’ written all over it.


	31. The Swing of Things

“Oh, yes, right there. A little harder.”

Spike grinned.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“What?”

Buffy rolled over so he could massage the other side of her calf, and also so she could look at him properly. “Don’t pull the innocent act, I know what you’re thinking.”

He sent her a particularly colorful image just for that.

“ _Spiiike!_ We’re trying to be good and–” she lowered her tone, “And not do things that little ears might hear.”

‘Sod little ears,’ he thought, but he didn’t mean it. What he said aloud was, “This is the most tense I’ve seen these muscles. You been stretchin’ them before workouts?”

“You know I have. Spike’s special stretches, remember?”

The grin was back. “Oh yeah.”

His hand slid further up, and Buffy slapped it away. “No.”

“But–”

“No, Spike.”

There was pouting, but no further argument.

“Tomorrow, maybe,” she allowed.

That got her a kiss, but then she got caught up and tried to deepen it, at which point Spike pulled away with a cheerful exclamation of, “To- _morrow_!”

“Jerk,” Buffy muttered, once he’d left the room, suddenly to be replaced by a tiny face in the doorway.

“Are there going to be monsters tonight?” said the face, half hidden behind a blanket as it contorted in a yawn.

Buffy smiled. “No, Dawnie. No fighting monsters under the bed, and no monsters outside, because Spi– I mean, _Daddy_ – is going out to fight them for a bit when you’re asleep.”

Dawn nodded, her eyes heavily hooded as she fought to stay awake. “Do I get a story?”

“Sure, I can read you the one about–”

Dawn shook her head. “A daddy story.”

That rankled a little bit, and Buffy knew Spike would be aware of it, but she also knew he’d ignore it and not hold it against her.

“Sure, Dawn,” she said in a sigh.

Dawn grinned at her with her father’s grin, and Buffy was struck once again how the same expression can be so different on two different faces. Still, they both engendered love in her. She couldn’t imagine doing any of this with Angel.

And that thought caused a little rankling from the other side.

Buffy smiled. It was probably odd that she enjoyed Spike’s possessiveness and jealousy over Angel a tiny bit, but she did anyway. Tiny bits were _totally_ doable. ‘Hmm…’ Buffy’s mind wandered into things or, rather, lovers, that were also doable. She snapped herself out of it pretty quickly, though. Dawn was looking at her intently.

Buffy ferried her out of the room and into bed, with a promise that Daddy would be along to tuck her in soon.

 

\---

_Tomorrow._

 

Buffy moaned at the feel of Spike kissing a path across her abdomen. As sucky as it was to wait, she did consider what they had worth waiting for.

“Stop thinking,” he commanded.

She released a heated sigh. “Get up here already.”

He pounced, and she laughed.

“I love you so bloody much!”

“You, too!” Buffy affirmed, working to undo his belt.

Then the phone rang and they stopped and looked at each other.

Spike thought they should leave it and not answer, but the machine had got caught up in a tragic axe cleaning incident the previous week and Buffy was worried she’d miss something important.

There was a shared sigh of resignation, and then Spike moved off her as she reached for the handset. To say he was annoyed was an understatement. He’d been waiting to be intimate with the Slayer for near a week and he felt like it was killing him. Something always happened, and Buffy always gave into the new crises. Time together was put off for another ‘later.’ He’d damn well had enough of it. It wasn’t just about sex, it was the connection; the strain of their bond.

Buffy reached out and stroked his arm in soothing motions, but her hand dropped again as she got the news.

“Dawn did _what_?!”

“Bloody hell.”

“Okay, we’ll be right there. Ten minutes.”

The phone went down again, and there was another shared look before they both started dressing.

 

“I’m gonna kill her,” said Spike, once in the car.

“No. You’re gonna be mad until she looks at you with puppy dog eyes and then you’ll go gooey and forget all about it.”

He wanted to argue, but knew Buffy was probably right. He wasn’t ready to admit that out loud, though. “What’s she thinkin’?” he groused instead.

“What, swearing at her teacher? I’m surprised you’re not proud.”

Spike looked offended at first, then realized that, actually, Buffy was right about that too.

“’m guessin’ this is my fault?”

“Well, I didn’t teach her the word bint.”

“It’s not even really a swear word.”

Buffy raised her eyebrows but said nothing. The short drive to daycare seemed to drag.

The PTB may have been great in providing Spike with anti-sun glass in his car for this new reality, but that didn’t make him any more able to get into the school without using a blanket and creating a stir.

“I’ll go,” said Buffy, when they pulled up. When she went to move, he pulled her back for a kiss to dispel the tension, only to be met with a “later.”

If he heard ‘later’ one more time…

Buffy looked at him questioningly. He looked away. He’d do nothing, was the truth of it. There was nothing either of them _could_ do about their situation.

 

\---

 

_Later._

 

“We need to talk.”

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Well nothin’ good ever starts with that, does it?”

Buffy sighed in answer. It really was a hell of a day.

“Spike, I didn’t sign up for this.”

“So, what, you regret havin’ a family with me? Being with me?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

He took a deep breath. “Look, yeah, I know you’re frazzled. I think Dawn’s picking up on it an’ that’s what’s got her acting up.”

“So it’s my fault?”

“That’s not what _I‘m_ saying.”

She folded into his arms. “We have to do something.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, but he didn’t know what. “It’s gotta get easier, right?”

Buffy didn’t answer. She didn’t know.

Spike held her tighter. “Niblet tell you what happened?”

“Her teacher said there were no such thing as monsters.”

“Ah.”

“Yup. Dawn insisted there were, the teacher yelled at her, then Dawn called her a bint and said her daddy would eat her for being mean.”

Spike couldn’t help but laugh. He knew he shouldn’t, but it really tickled him.

“That old hag? She wishes.”

Buffy gave in to a small smile. “She’s got your fire.”

“Was gonna say the same to you,” said Spike.

“I guess we can both be a little fire-y. No wonder she’s like she is.”

“Hey,” Spike looked at her intently. “There’s no harm in it, wouldn’t want ‘er to change, would we?”

“I guess not,” said Buffy, with not a great deal of conviction.

Spike’s mind slammed into overdrive. “You sure you don’ regret this?”

“Very sure,” she affirmed.

“But you don’ like how things are. How Dawn is, an’ you think she’s like me.”

“No.” It was Buffy’s turn to hold him more firmly. “Don’t think like that.”

“What am I supposed to think?”

“I’m not mad at you, Spike.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Okay, so I’ve been mad, and I’ve been taking it out on you. I… God, where do I begin? So much isn’t right, and it gets to me, but I wouldn’t change it.”

Spike didn’t say anything. He was in listening mode; ready and waiting for her to unload on him like she sorely needed.

“This hellgod. She could come at any time. I feel like I’m constantly looking over my shoulder for her, but I don’t know what she looks like. I could walk right by her. And she could show up next week, or next month–”

“Or it could be twenty years down the bloody road. You can’t live like that.”

“I know that, but when I forget to check if we’re in danger I feel bad. Like I’ve let Dawn down.”

Buffy took a breath before mentally moving onto issue number two on her mind and carrying on. “It bothers me that you’re better with Dawn than I am,” she admitted. “That you’re handling everything and I’m floundering.”

“Oh, rot.”

“No. You are. But that’s a good thing. I shouldn’t be punishing you for it. I’m sorry.”

Spike gave her sad eyes. “’m sorry too, pet.”

“What’s your secret?”

He sighed. “I used to have sisters – two of ‘em.”

Buffy sat up. “Why didn’t you say?”

“Because it bloody hurts thinkin’ about them, that’s why.”

If it were possible, she’d have held him closer. Instead, she settled for saying sorry again.

Spike waved the apology away, his vision clouded. “They, uh… they died young.”

“Oh, Spike,” Buffy whispered, before they started comforting each other in kisses, unaware they were being watched.

‘Aint this just sweet,’ Faith thought to herself.


	32. Blast from the Past

In direct contrast to Buffy’s occasional muddled Slayer dreams, sometimes Spike would get clear visions of his past, re-played in Technicolor clarity.

With Buffy having brought his sisters to the forefront of his mind, that’s what he dreamt of that night; and she was along for the ride.

They stood there, watching as invisible specters, as a teenage William nodded his head in response to his father’s instructions. He was a gruff old man, in stark contrast to his son.

“You need to take charge of the household,” he was saying. “This is the third conflict with these damn Ashanti’s, and I see no reason why there won’t be more. Bloody backward people, if you ask me. Can’t see when they’re well off!”

William bowed his head. “Yes, father.”

“Yes, ah, where was I? Head of the household, that’s it. I may not be back. These tribes take no mercy. Would kill you on your feet!”

“Surely not,” he gasped, before taking control of his emotions and schooling his features once more. His father, it seemed, was too caught up to notice the outburst.

“Oh, yes. Savages. We should have left them alone, but no matter, the fact remains I’ve got a war effort to help with, and you’re needed here. You’ll take good care of the girls, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” William affirmed. Buffy thought he didn’t look at all sure.

There was a hearty pat on the back which seemed to startle him. “That’s a good lad.”

The scene shifted and changed. Buffy could tell not much time had passed, because William still looked around the same age. He was sat at a beside, reading to two girls, the taller with blonde ringlets and the smaller one with dark hair straight down her back. She was asleep, and both were coughing.

William stopped and looked up at them, worry etched across his face, but the blonde urged him to continue.

Buffy was aware that Spike was very still, beside her. Although neither of them had real form within the dream, she could reach out to him, and they could connect.

“The little one’s Alice,” he said, eyes glued to her. “She died no more than two weeks after this. Mary the following day. Was about a month after my dad had gone. Mum took a lot longer to get ill, o’course.”

Buffy’s heart ached at the scene. She could feel how raw it all still was for him, and how powerless he felt at the time.

Spike looked at the floor. “I was supposed to take care of them.”

“This _is_ you taking care of them,” said Buffy. “The reading.”

“Fat lot of good that did.”

“Spike–”

“I know, alright? Wasn’t my fault that they went.”

There was a pause. Buffy wanted nothing more than to offer words of comfort, but there weren’t any.

“My da’ never did come back,” Spike continued.

“Hey,” she gave his hand a squeeze. “You’re not alone anymore. You have a family.”

There was a faint flicker of a smile. “M’ mum always insisted I’d make a good father.”

“And you do!”

“Yeah, not quite the way she expected, right? Back then, no one would go near me, and it weren’t for fear of catchin’ consumption, neither.”

Buffy clenched her insubstantial jaw. “You’re not alone now,” she said again.

“Yeah,” Spike whispered, as he finally let his eyes drift off his sisters and meet her gaze.

They eased out of sleep at the same time, and were left facing each other in the bed, kind of wrapped in each other’s limbs, still laid down. Buffy placed her hand on the side of Spike’s face, and he leaned into it as he shut his eyes and gave a little shudder.

“So much for rest,” Buffy joked.

Another flicker of a smile, and then a creek of the door. They turned to see Dawn wonder into the room.

“Mommy? I can’t sleep. There’s a bad girl at the window.”

 

\---

 

Buffy cuddled Dawn in the double bed while Spike had a quick scout around the house. He couldn’t see anyone, but there was definitely a scent he didn’t recognize. Female.

‘Well,’ he thought to himself. ‘This Glory bint has picked a bloody fine week to show her arse. I’m about in the mood to murder something.’

‘Do you really think it was her?’ Buffy asked, silently.

He didn’t know how to answer that, so he didn’t, instead making his way back to the bed and asking Dawn if she’d seen the ‘bad girl’ before.

She shook her head.

He was tempted to ask her how she knew she was bad, but reckoned a stranger peeking in through the window in the dead of night kind of gave that impression.

“Can you tell us what she looked like, poppet?”

“She, uh…” there was a pause for thought and a big yawn. “She was pretty,” she decided, finally. And with that, Dawn fell asleep, leaving Buffy and Spike with a dilemma.

They looked at each other. Neither had a plan, but Buffy did have a watcher.

Glancing at the clock – _4.06AM_ – she sighed and lifted the phone that was placed beside it.

“Let’s hope Gilesie knows what to do.”


	33. Mix Up

“Buffy? Buffy, do you know what time it is? What’s wrong?”

“Someone was watching us,” she whispered into the phone, hearing a yawn in response.

“Sorry, what? Do speak up.”

“I can’t, Dawn’s sleeping.”

Buffy held her a little closer, then shot a look over at Spike, who was still at the window. He took the phone and went out into the hall.

“Watcher, Bit says she saw someone at the window. A bad girl.”

“Could it have been a dream?”

He shook his head, regardless of the fact Giles couldn’t see him. “There’s a scent. Female. No sign of anyone, though. Buffy doesn’t want me to track it. Not right now.”

“Er, right…” Spike could have sworn he heard the cogs in Giles’ brain whirring away. “Have you come across the Dagon Sphere yet?”

“No.”

“You remember what it looks like, from the diagrams I showed you?”

“Yes,” he snapped, then looked around and immediately lowered his voice again, “I bloody remember. We haven’t seen it.”

“Hmm… That would suggest that the mystery person is not likely to be Glory.”

Spike hadn’t thought of that. “A minion, maybe?” he asked.

“Perhaps.”

He released a groan. “Giles, I’m going outta my mind here. What do I do?”

The watcher paused for what felt like an eternity. He wasn’t used to Spike needing help, at least not from him.

“My family are in danger,” Spike urged, hating the vulnerability. “I feel soddin’ useless.”

Buffy sent him feelings of love through the claim, and he was grateful for them.

“I understand,” said Giles, finally. “But I can see no other course of action but to keep watch and convene at the Magic Box come morning.”

“Right,” said Spike, his teeth gritted. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear but, then, he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to hear. He hung up and went back to Buffy.

 

\---

 

In the morning, Buffy dragged herself to class even as she fought to stay awake.

Spike took Dawn to the Magic Box, as agreed. They had decided to forget about pre-school and just keep her with them during the day, as mad as it sounded. Homeschooling had to be easier than demon hunting. At least it should be more convenient.

Dawn was wriggling, but Spike wouldn’t let her out of his arms.

She pouted, and that did it. He relented and set her down.

“No more than twenty paces,” he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes, gave a deep sigh and said, “Yes, Daddy,” before walking up to Giles, giving him a hug, and whispering – albeit very loudly – that she thought Spike was cold.

“He’s always hugging me and mommy, to try and warm up,” she explained.

Giles nodded and gave her a pat on the head.

Spike grinned at her, as she then wandered off to the corner to play with her toys.

“The mind of a four-year-old,” he said.

“Quite,” Giles agreed.

There was a brief pause, and then they got down to business.

Eyeing the books laid across the research table, Spike said, “Tell me you’ve got something.”

Giles didn’t answer, exactly. His failure to find a single relevant text to Glory, or a prophecy concerning Buffy at the current time, written all over his face.

“Bugger!” Spike exclaimed, before looking over at Dawn to make sure she hadn’t heard. She looked particularly wrapped up in a conversation with Mr Gordo, so he reckoned he’d got away with it.

“I need to track the scent,” he said. It was the only thing they had to go on, except Spike couldn’t go on it due to the sun being up, and the trail would likely be gone by the time night fell. As he considered this and stifled more swear words, Buffy walked into the store.

Immediately, Spike stood up straight from where he’d been leaning on the counter; his whole body on high alert. Dawn got up, too, and went to run to her mom, but he held out a hand and stopped her. Something was wrong. He’d stopped hearing Buffy’s thoughts chattering around in the background of his brain a little while ago, but he’d only really just really noticed.

“What’s going on?” asked the Slayer.

Spike’s eyes narrowed and he inhaled a deep breath. The unknown scent was all over Buffy. Or, Buffy’s body, at least.

Picking up Dawn and handing her to Giles, Spike walked up to Buffy and punched her hard across the face. She reeled backwards as Dawn began to cry.

“Who the hell are you and what have you done to my Mate?”

 

\---

 

Buffy didn’t take long to regain consciousness. Clutching her head, she looked around and tried to figure out what happened. Spike was never so thankful to hear her thoughts as he was then.

“Bloody hell, you’re okay!” he exclaimed, through the claim.

“Uh, yeah. Where am I?”

“Don’t rightly know, but your body’s here.”

“Huh?”

 

\---

 

Spike tied whoever was wearing Buffy’s skin around to a chair before taking his daughter back out of Giles’ arms and instructing him to close the store. Once that was done, the watcher turned to him and demanded an explanation.

“That’s not Buffy,” he said. He didn’t know how to explain much more than that and, really, Giles understanding the situation was the least of his worries.

“Hey,” he said, looking deep into Dawn’s eyes. She was still crying. “It’s okay. We’ll sort this.”

She wasn’t comforted. He tried again.

“Niblet, your mum’s just got herself a little confused. That’s not her that I hit. That’s the bad girl, pretending to be her.”

There was a brief pause to the wailing, then a sniffle, as Dawn looked back and forth between Spike and what looked like her mother.

“She’s dressed up?” she asked.

“That’s it. That’s all it is.”

Another sniffle, then: “It’s a good costume.”

Spike took a moment to appraise the body of his Mate and said, “That it is.”

 

\---

 

As much as Faith wanted to screw up Buffy’s life, she wasn’t prepared to lie to her daughter and pretend to be all motherly. Spike seemed to have figured out that it wasn’t her anyway, so there was no point. She was quiet for a bit as she watched him calm Dawn, but then curiosity got a bit too much for her.

“Since when does B have a brat?”

Spike almost swung at her again but was clearly trying to tone down the violence in front of the kid.

Faith spoke again as he glared at her. “You two are together now? What world have I woken up in? And what happened to Angel?”

“I’m right here.”

Everyone looked up to see the vamp himself, standing just inside the door. No one had noticed him enter.

“That’s all I need,” Spike groused.

At the sight of Angel, Dawn started crying again.

 

\---

 

“Spike? What’s happening? I… I think I saw Faith. It’s kinda fuzzy.”

“Don’t freak out, love, but there’s been a bit of a body swap.”

“A body sw– ohmygod-whatthehell-thisisn’tme-whereamI? Spikeeee!!”

All the Slayer’s thoughts came out as a rush, in a panicked mutant of a run-on word, and Spike sighed. _So much for not freaking out._

“Don’t sigh at me! What happened? Where is my body?!”

“It’s here, safe.”

“There? Where’s there?”

“Jus’ calm down, Kitten. I’m at the Magic Box, we’ll get you sorted. Now, do you know where you are? Any clues about?”

“Uh… um, a broom? Or a shovel? I don’t know, it’s kinda dark.”

Spike frowned, then turned back around to where Faith was seated.

“Did you put her in a bloody closet?”

Faith shrugged. She was really pissing him off, but at least Giles had managed to get Angel out of his face temporarily by taking him out back to talk.

“What’s with the freaky silent communication thing you got going on? I mean, you’re listening to Buffy when you make all those weird-ass facial expressions, right?”

Spike knew she was goading him but, at that point in time, he was in no mood to just let it wash over him. As he listening to real Buffy discover that she was indeed in a closet, and that she had found a way out and was on her way back to him, he stepped towards the rogue Slayer wearing her skin.

Just when he was in range, she kicked out a foot and he discovered she’d managed to get her hands free. A full level assault was launched from both sides.

 

\---

 

Spike and Faith fought as Dawn cheered her dad on from the sidelines.

“B not mind that you hit her?” Faith asked.

“She can take it,” he replied, circling her.

“Mind the face,” said real Buffy, through the link.

“Right you are,” Spike replied, aloud.

That made Faith pause. “Can you stop freaking me out?”

He clocked her in the jaw then followed with a swift, “Sorry, pet.”

“Hey, no need to apologize. When I take your head off I’m not gonna feel bad about it.”

Spike drove a left hook into her gut. “Wasn’t talkin’ to you.”

For all her talk about being uncomfortable, Faith seemed to enjoy the fight, though in a way much different to Buffy. His Mate liked the skill behind the blows, whereas Faith relished the damage they caused. She made another wisecrack about them having a violent relationship, saying maybe she should let social services know what kind of environment Dawn was being brought up in, while Spike bit back a comment about Buffy liking it rough, knowing their daughter was still in earshot.

Fatherhood, he realized, was cramping his fighting style. He’d have to have a think about that, later.

Thankfully, the real Buffy walked in, then. Spike gaped at her attire.

“Close your mouth!” she barked, beginning to battle Faith herself. “Don’t look at me!”

Spike did as he was told and ducked out of the fight to go stand by Dawn again.

“Is that the real mommy?” she asked, a loud stage whisper.

“Yeah, pet, let’s be real quiet and not distract her, yeah?”

 

\---

 

Just as real Buffy got the upper hand and managed to pin Faith down, Giles and Angel reentered the main shop. Dawn started crying yet again, but Spike caught her eye and gave a little shake of his head. She stopped. He was beyond proud of her.

Laying a kiss on her forehead, he stepped back into the fray and helped real Buffy hold fake Buffy down. Then Giles came over, holding herbs in one hand and a book in the other.

“Angel, if you would just take hold of Faith’s real body,” he said.

“Whoa! Real Buffy backed away from her ex-boyfriend. You’re not holding anything.”

“It’s not even your body,” he rationalized.

“Well she’s the one bloody well wrapped in it, so you do as she says,” said Spike.

Giles said, “I understand that this is a little awkward,” glancing briefly at Dawn, who had tilted her head at the scene before her. “But when I complete the spell, the bodies will be switched back and someone needs to be holding Faith’s true form so that she doesn’t get away.”

Spike and real Buffy looked at each other. Neither of them liked the thought of Angel holding her down, no matter how briefly, but there wasn’t much choice. Even if Spike could safely let go of Buffy’s body to play the part of restraining real Buffy inside Faith’s, that would still leave Angel touching real Buffy’s body when she got back inside it.

“Look, just do it quickly, I’m getting a headache,” real Buffy exclaimed, having considered this.

Spike gave a nod at Giles, as Faith continued to struggle against him.

Real Buffy stepped closer to her body and allowed Angel to take hold of her – not without a little bit of struggle herself – and then Giles poured his mixture of mystical herbs over them both.

There was a little flash in Buffy’s eyes, and Spike’s arms tightened around her even more. She sat up in his embrace, and they kissed, fiercely.

Dawn cheered, and Faith took a brief moment to readjust to her own skin before hitting Angel in the face with her elbow and bolting out of the store.

Disentangling themselves from one another, Spike and Buffy glared the other Vampire.

“After all that you bloody let her go?!”

“I didn’t _let_ her, she hit me!”

Buffy rolled her eyes, and Spike helped her to her feet. She was going to go after the rogue slayer, but Angel insisted he’d get her and bring her back to L.A.

Buffy didn’t ask what he planned to do with her there; she didn’t want to know and was much more concerned with hugging Spike again.

When she could sit on the sidelines no longer, Dawn jumped up and dug her way into the center of the huddle.

Taking a look at the tight family unit, Angel grimaced before opening the door.

“Hey,” he said, picking up an object as it rolled down the sidewalk past him. He tossed it to Spike. “ I think you dropped this.”

No one watched him leave, after that. All eyes were on the glowing object now in Spike’s hand.

“Is that–” Buffy began.

“The Dagon Sphere,” Giles affirmed.

“It’s pretty,” Dawn commented.


	34. Cleansing

Giles was sat glaring at the Dagon Sphere.

“You’re saying it rolled past Angel and he just picked it up?”

“For the third time, yes, that’s what I saw,” Spike affirmed. “You saw it, too. Don’t know why you’re looking to us for answers.”

“But why would it be rolling down the street?”

Buffy sighed. “Giles, we’ve just told you we don’t know.”

“Yes, sorry. I just don’t understand.”

“Well can we figure it out some other time? I’ve kinda had a rough day.”

Giles was looking intensely at Dawn as he said, “This is an important development. It should be acted on immediately!”

Dawn was looking right back at him. She was a smart kid and was likely to figure out something was up sooner or later all on her own, she didn’t need hints from anywhere else.

“Watcher,” Spike warned, voice low. “Think about what’s comin’ out your pie-hole, yeah? How do you think we even could act on it?”

Giles seemed to suddenly realize that he was staring and snapped himself out of it. “Er, right. Do apologize. I’ve had a long day myself. Someone woke me up at four in the morning.” His gaze flitted to Buffy, then back to the Dagon Sphere. “We should research, of course.”

Ignoring the snarky part of the comment, Spike instructed Giles to get some books he could take with him. “Takin’ my girls home. I can read while they have a rest.”

“I’m not tired, Daddy,” said Dawn.

“Fine,” said Spike. “Dawn researches while me and Buffy go to bed.”

Everyone looked at him – Dawn, evidently pleased with the amended plan, Buffy and Giles less so.

“That was a joke,” he clarified. “Has _everyone_ lost their sense of humor?”

No one answered, but Buffy visibly relaxed. He was sure that if he didn’t get her into a bed soon, she’d fall asleep right where she stood. Dawn was pouting at him.

“Sorry, Niblet. You’re a bit young for old Rupes here’s books. But don’ worry, they’re boring, not like yours.”

The watcher looked most affronted, to which Spike gave him a wink, before he finally went off to select some volumes.

“Why was Angel here?” Buffy asked Spike, while Giles was out back. It seemed the question had only just struck her.

Spike grinned, glad to see she hadn’t paid too much attention to his grandsire – that he was barely on her radar even while right in front of her.

Buffy rolled her eyes at his thoughts, then re-asked the question.

“Oh, some chit had a vision, apparently; told him Faith was out, so he decided to come down and pick ‘er up.”

Buffy’s hands went to her hips. “And, what? He couldn’t have called to give us a heads up first?”

Spike shrugged.

“I don’t like Angel,” Dawn announced.

Spike grinned again. “See? This one’s a smart cookie. Probably should be the one doin’ the research.”

 

\---

 

Despite her protests of not being tired, Dawn fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. Buffy went for a shower before bed, as Spike settled himself in an armchair with the first book. He was a chapter and a half in when he felt Buffy’s sadness overwhelm her, through the claim.

Setting the tome down again, he went to her. She was stood in the bathroom – hair still damp, towel wrapped around her shoulders – sobbing.

Spike took her into his arms. “What’s all this, pet?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just… Faith had my body, and she could have done anything. I feel – I feel like…” her words broke off in a choked whimper.

Spike’s heart broke for her. She felt violated. Of course she did. Why hadn’t he realized earlier?

He held her until the tears stopped then towel dried her hair and carried her to bed where he held her again. After a while, Buffy went to straddle his hips, but he gripped her wrist to stop her.

“What are you doing?”

Buffy tried and failed to verbally express what she wanted, a few times, but from her tangled thoughts Spike was able to decipher that she was trying to feel home in her body again; wanting to reclaim it by joining with him. His hold softened and he laid kisses along her jawline.

“What about Niblet?”

“We can be quiet,” Buffy whispered. “Just once. We can go slow. I… I need–”

His kisses carried on their trail down her body. “I know, Kitten, it’s okay.”


	35. Enemies Old

Spike was having a quiet, productive morning, for a change. Buffy had gone to class while he’d taken it upon himself to help Dawn improve her reading. They were having a snack break when there was a loud bang at the back of the house.

“Bloody hell, what now?” he groused, starting to form a theory that Buffy going to college was a bad omen.

Walking into the kitchen to find his backdoor lying flat on the floor, Spike stood rooted in place at the sight of Drusilla on the other side of the invisible barrier to the house. She had a rather bulky henchman on one side of her – a demon under a human guise, Spike reckoned, and no doubt the thing that broke down his door. It held a large, black umbrella over Dru, shielding her head and shoulders from the sun.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asked sweetly, before wagging her finger and adding, “Ah, but you can’t. Got to be human to do that.”

Spike was still silent. Stunned.

Dru carried on, casually, “I hear my Spike’s got himself a lovely little dolly.”

At that, he found his voice. “I’m not yours anymore, bitch.”

He was shocked with the amount of venom he put into the word, never expecting to have such huge animosity towards his sire. She looked unbothered, though.

“What exactly is it you want, Dru?”

Drusilla pouted. “None of my other princes take care of me proper.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded glumly and gave a little whimper, but the little girl lost routine didn’t work on him anymore. He leaned in real close and said, “Tough shit.”

All pretenses dropped from her in an instant as she swung for him but was, of course, foiled by the barrier. It was at that point Dawn walked into the room. Spike disengaged from his battle stance immediately.

“There she is,” cooed Dru. “What’s your name, Dolly?”

Dawn was halfway through chewing a cookie. Swallowing it down, she looked to her dad for permission.

“It’s okay, pet,” he told her, “You don’ need to talk to the strange woman.”

Dru growled under her breath, to which Spike grinned and elaborated, “The strange, old, bitter _hag_ of a woman.”

Drusilla practically gnashed her teeth at him, and Dawn admonished him with a stern, “That’s not very nice.”

“Yeah?” he swept her up in his arms, “Maybe I’m a mean old man, then.”

Dawn giggled, “Don’t be silly, daddy, you’re very nice.”

She got a kiss on the forehead for that.

Utterly horrified by Spike’s lack of concern at her presence – his lack of respect, or fear – Dru apparently decided to move her plan into stage two and stepped out of the way to let the mystic at the barrier.

“Hey!” Spike yelled, placing Dawn on the ground again and pushing her behind him. “What’s he doing? Dru?!”

 

\---

 

“Dru, huh?” said Buffy, aloud, as she jolted awake in the middle of class to find everyone staring at her, naturally.

“Uh, nothing,” she muttered, in response to the professors questioning gaze, before seeking Spike through the claim.

There was no reply; his thoughts completely silent.

Buffy excused herself from class and ran most of the way home where she found Dawn missing and Spike knocked out; a large gash in the side of his head.

She was tempted to break down but forced herself to look around for clues instead. The kitchen was a torn up, but that was about it.

Just as she was about to return to Spike, she passed through the front of the house again, coming face to face with Glory. She didn’t know how she knew it was her, but she knew. They stared at each other, hackles raised.


	36. Enemies New

Spike took a long time to come round. Knowing the urgency of the situation, Buffy didn’t want to lose the time waiting for him to do so, but she also couldn’t leave him. She didn’t _want_ to leave him but felt the desperate pull to go after Dawn.

Buffy had felt torn lots of times in her relatively short life, often very painfully so, but never like this. She didn’t have to agonize too much over the decision, though, because logic told her that time lost waiting for Spike to wake up would be made up by him being able to track Dawn faster than she could.

Although it wasn’t bleeding much – mostly due to his vampire circulatory system – the gash in his head was deep. She knew it took a lot to knock him down, and even more to keep him that way. That knowledge made her heart clench tighter. He wasn’t breathing. And, although he didn’t need to breathe in the first place, it was always a good sign when he did.

Buffy cleaned Spike’s head wound and was sat on the kitchen floor just holding him.

The moment he came back to himself, she felt the deep sense of anguish within him swell and thrash about. It was accompanied by an inhuman yell that went straight through her. Caught off guard by the suddenness of the reaction, and having taken just a brief moment to process it, Buffy gripped him tighter and tried her hardest to suppress her own grief enough to send him reassuring feelings of love and safety. She needed him to get it together, and she needed him to do it now. Feelings were one thing, though, and Buffy couldn’t find any actual words of encouragement to go with them. She couldn’t say he was safe or tell him that anything was okay. Nothing would be okay again until they held Dawn in their arms and saw for themselves that she was not injured.

“What happened?” Buffy asked, as calmly as she could.

“Dru,” he replied in a groan.

Buffy expected that answer – she’d fallen asleep while whatever attack had happened, so wasn’t aware of what was going on at the time, but she had a deep sense that Drusilla was behind it when she woke up. Having it confirmed didn’t help any.

A slow anger burned in her. Anger at Dru for stepping back into their lives, and hurting Spike – for putting Dawn in god-knows-what danger – and anger at Spike for letting her get away with it. Buffy knew that last part was completely irrational and unfair, but she felt it all the same. Mixed in was the odd relief that Dawn hadn’t been around when Glory turned up. There was great irony in that fact that being in danger saved her from being in even greater danger, but she couldn’t dwell on that now. She’d tell Spike about the hellgod’s first appearance once they’d got their little girl back. They needed to go at this one thing at a time.

“Was Dawn hurt?” Buffy pressed. “Can you find them?”

Spike only let out another yell in response – as if his soul was being shredded – except, of course, he didn’t have one.

“Spike, _please_!” Buffy begged, pushing him off her a little to try and get them both standing. When he broke down into tears, she felt the urge to slap him. “You need to get up and track Dawn now! Feelings about your old girlfriend can wait!”

A fresh look of injury swept across his face, as he assessed Buffy’s inner turmoil and realized she thought he was cut up about being pitted against his ex.

“Buffy,” he said, sobering. All he could say was her name but, as soon as he did, she realized she’d assessed the situation wrong. He couldn’t care less about having to fight Drusilla, he was traumatized at the thought of what she might do to Dawn. That was the beginning and end of it – he wasn’t even feeling pity for his wounds.

Buffy gulped. His fear was tangible, and he knew better than most what his sire was capable of. Having cut the aggression out of her tone again, and silently let him know she was sorry, Buffy tried once more to encourage him to get up and go tracking.

“She might not have killed her yet,” she said. It was the only straw she could clutch at.

“No,” he agreed, “She coulda done something worse.”

Buffy tried to gulp again, but her throat was too tight; too dry.

There was silence as Spike got to his feet. With just the briefest of swaying, he righted himself went into battle mode – shutting out any and all of his emotions that weren’t driving him forward. They left the house quickly, not pausing to call Giles or even engaging any more with each other.

There was the briefest of pauses in the front yard as Spike heaved a heavy breath and pulled the various scents around him into his lungs. Then he glanced at Buffy, letting her know he’d picked up on Glory.

With a brief nod to confirm the hellgod’s earlier presence, Buffy then shook her head, indicating it was a separate issue to be put on the back burner until later.

Spike’s eyes snapped back to the path ahead of them and they moved off again – left, in the direction of the old factory Dru and he used to hold up in.

 

\---

 

Having marched into the factory with all the confidence and concentration of a soldier, Spike almost crumpled to the ground when he saw Dru alone in the center of the room – her henchmen gone – spinning Dawn around in her arms, like the doll she believed her to be.

Seemingly lost in her own world of pixies and dreams, Drusilla hadn’t noticed Spike and Buffy walk in.

The Slayer circled around behind her while Spike held his place by the door.

Dawn appeared to be slack in his sire’s arms, and Spike wondered if she was under her thrall, but then he saw her arm move slowly behind her back where it pulled a mini-stake from the back pocket of her pants.

Spike couldn’t believe it when he saw his four-year-old, supernaturally conceived child stake the woman he’d spent over a hundred years of his life devoted to.

Dru’s eyes focused on him the moment she realized what was happening and then, next thing he knew, there was dust in her place and Buffy had leapt forward to catch Dawn from falling to the ground.

That was it – the built up adrenaline flew from Spike’s body and he returned to a puddle on the ground.

Dawn was safe. His baby wasn’t going to be tortured, or mutilated, or killed. Not today, and not ever. The hell-bitch had found them, and she was next on their list of people to take down.

As a family, Dawn, Spike, and Buffy took a moment to cuddle each other right there on the cold, dusty, factory floor.

Tomorrow they had to face even tougher challenges.


	37. Order

“So, Glory popped by?” said Spike.

It had been a whole day since the drama with Drusilla went down, but it was the first time he and Buffy had a proper chance to stop and really talk about it, at least with each other.

When they’d finally picked themselves up off the factory floor, Spike went hunting for Dru’s henchmen only to find his crazy sire had killed them herself. He was surprised to feel the smallest pang of pity for them, having once been surplus to requirements himself, but he quickly got over it.

Instead of going back to their house that night, they went to Giles and he had all kinds of questions. Once the interrogation was done, everybody just about managed enough energy to climb into Giles’ spare bed; Buffy and Spike on either side of the double, with Dawn protectively cocooned in the middle.

When Buffy only replied to Spike’s question with a weary look, he jumped to the next thing he needed to discuss with her, knowing they’d circle back around. “Just when did Dawn start carrying stakes?”

Buffy gave a start. “She- wha?”

“Stakes. Little wooden sticks – you know the kind. Only small. You didn’t give her one?”

“Of course not! Who gives a child that?”

Spike pondered it for a moment before concluding, “Watcher, probably. Normally I’d be pissed, but in this case I’m bloody glad he did.”

“I’ll say!” Buffy exclaimed. In truth, she hadn’t really thought about where Dawn had acquired her weapon. Heck, she hadn’t really processed the fact that she even _had_ a weapon. Needless to say she’d be having a word with Giles about it. First, though, they had to finish getting their house back in order; literally and metaphorically.

Willow and Tara had popped in to reinstate the anti-vampire barrier Drusilla’s sorcerer had taken down. Not knowing what spells he’d used, they couldn’t be sure if it had only granted Dru access or set out the welcome mat for any passing undead. Just in case, they decided to do a mass disinvite of all vamps and nasties.

In the middle of that, Xander came by to fit a new back door, but no one had really considered that having Spike in the house might be an issue. As soon as the spell was cast, he found himself thrown by an invisible force right through the new back door and straight into his sun-soaked backyard.

Buffy ran out to him in terror, yelling that he was welcome and could come in so loudly she half expected the police to show up at her door for noise violations.

Disorientated, blistered, and bleeding, Spike was patched up quickly enough on the surface, but two heavy bashes to the head in twenty-four hours left him woozy for a little while. Who knew a vampire could get concussion?

Dawn was distraught at what had happened to her daddy and Buffy couldn’t console her at all. She eventually had to go against her better judgment and let Dawn snuggle into Spike’s lap and play nurse/guard dog while he recovered.

Willow started baking apology cookies and Xander left to get _another_ new door; muttering about “not being paid for this” and wastage of wood. Buffy thought he was secretly glad that he could actually be useful, though. Getting a carpentry job had definitely been a good call on his part.

Cookies cooled and eaten, the second round of spell casting began. The disaster of the first round did of course make Buffy wish they could take time to fully research each of the new enchantments, but time was of the essence now Glory knew where they lived.

Willow was placing a heavy-duty glamour on the building so that when the hellgod came back, her eyes would glide right past it. It took some major tweaking to get the spell to sustain itself indefinitely and the whole thing took hours, but it was successfully in place by nightfall without any further casualties or drama.

By that time, Spike was almost completely back to normal. He wanted to patrol but Buffy had put her foot down, instructing him to keep an eye on Dawn while she went out and did it. Coming back, there had been a full-scale Scooby Meeting.

Over the course of the day, questions had been asked by both Willow and Xander about what the latest crises was, but full details weren’t given until everyone was gathered together in one place at the same time. They were told who Glory was, and that she was after Dawn. Buffy and Spike weren’t planning to say any more, but Anya was in a curious mood and kept asking why Dawn was so important, so they’d told them everything.

The gang had each weighed up the pros and cons of Spike and Buffy taking Dawn and getting the hell out of town, with the final vote going down against the idea. It was too risky for those left behind, though they decided to revisit the plan if all else were to fail.

Next on the agenda was deciding if Joyce should be told, but Buffy alone actually got to make the ultimate choice on that one.

“I’ve spent too long lying to her,” she reasoned, “About me. What I am. She was so hurt when she found out there was a big part of my life that she knew nothing about. I need to tell her.”

Despite his concerns that the knowledge might get Joyce into danger, Spike supported Buffy’s decision. When they’d picked out a suitable day to break the news, the couple went into the kitchen ­– primarily to refill glasses, but also to get a break from all the choices and questions and options of the other room.

Without a word, they slipped into each other’s arms and deeply exhaled in unison. Then, when the real world couldn’t wait any longer, they pulled apart and started fixing drinks.

Walking back up the hall towards the living room carrying a full tray, Buffy nearly jumped out of her skin when the doorbell went.


	38. Visit

The sound of several glasses and their contents crashing to the ground jolted Buffy’s brain out of panic mode and into action. Her hands went to pick up the glass, getting cut in the process, while her mind raced through a million possibilities. Someone was at the door.

_Who, and why? How can they even see the place? Did the spell fail? Oh god, are we all going to die?!_

As Buffy tried to choose between going to get a weapon to fight the thing at the door and running out the back while whatever stood on her front step, she felt Spike’s strong arms slide around her waist and pull her to his chest while everyone else slowly walked out into the hall to see what the commotion was.

Buffy’s eyes darted to Willow’s, then filled with confusion at her lack of concern.

“What’s wrong?” asked the Witch.

The doorbell rang again, effectively answering on behalf of Buffy.

“Oh!” said Willow. “You think that–” she shook her head. “No. Whoever it is must be human. The glamour only works on demons.”

Buffy’s mouth sprang open. Only works on humans? It was news to her.

“I’m sorry, Buffy. It was the best I could do. I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Yeah? Well, consider me worried.”

“That’s not fair,” said Xander.

Buffy heaved a breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“We’re all a little highly strung,” Spike added.

“I’ll say,” Giles affirmed.

Then came a voice from the other side of the door – a stiff English accent: “Is anyone planning to let me in?”

Buffy knew that voice. She _hated_ that voice. It wasn’t really a voice of danger, but she still didn’t want to open up for it. Reluctantly, though, she started moving towards the door, at least until Spike pulled her back.

“You’re bleeding,” he pointed out.

“Oh.” She’d forgotten about that.

True to form, Giles was next in line to take charge. He answered the door while Spike did some speedy first aid, closing Buffy’s cuts with the salve of his tongue by gently licking the pads of her fingers.

Oz and Anya looked at the intimate act with interest, as Willow, Tara, and Xander focused their gaze on the visitor.

“Quentin,” said Giles, flatly.

Looking around at all the faces gathered in Buffy’s hallway, he said, “That’ll be Mr Travers to the rest of you.”

His task completed, Spike stepped past a nervous Buffy to the head of the gang and assessed the man before him. “Well, well, if it isn’t one of the wanker’s council. Could spot your lot a mile away. I’m bettin’ you’re the chieftain.”

He paused to make a small tutting noise then added, “The last one you sent was bloody useless. More of a pain in the arse than anythin’ else.”

After a second pause, Spike’s tone developed an edge to it as he said, “If you wanna come in my home you better hope you don’t upset the Slayer. An’ I’ll call you what I damn well please, understood?”

Travers was silent as he appeared to chew the words over for a minute before finally saying, “I would not normally put up with such rudeness but, seeing as there are more grave matters at hand, may I?”

Off a mental cue from Buffy, Spike stepped aside and let Travers enter. Glancing around with eyes narrowed, Buffy could feel his judgment as if it were a tangible thing. When his eyes then caught sight of the glass on the floor, they directly rose to meet hers.

She refused to gulp. Refused to show any sign of intimidation at all.

“I assume you know why I’m here,” he said.

“Why don’t you tell us just in case,” Buffy replied.

“Now, there’s no need to make this difficult. I can’t think why you’d even want to keep her here in the first place. Do you enjoy being in constant danger, Miss Summers?”

Okay, now that got her pissed. “Excuse me?” Buffy snapped. “She is _not_ a danger!”

Travers seemed quite surprised at that. Nonetheless, he continued, “Don’t bother trying to hide her from us. We know what’s in her best interests.”

“You don’t know anything. I’m her _mother_!”

Bewilderment as earnest as Hemingway suddenly bloomed across Quentin’s face. “Dear girl, what on earth are you talking about?”

“No. Don’t you dare start telling me she’s not human, or not really my daughter. It’s bullshit. She's a little girl! And, yeah, she might have been made magically, but Dawn is a part of me. Both of us!”

At the reference to him, Spike stepped forward to provide a united front, but Travers was not giving up.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you or just what kind of nonsense you’re trying to pull, but I don’t care. I want you to hand Faith over right now, do I make myself clear?”

…

“Faith?” Spike and Buffy said at once.


	39. Problems and Plans

There was a pause as everyone took a moment to process what Travers had said. Each of the Scoobies looked around at everyone else.

“Faith?” Willow repeated, finally.

“Wait, what?” said Buffy.

Travers looked as though he was going to speak again but he was preemptively cut off by Spike releasing a deep sigh of relief and saying, “You took yer bloody time on that one, didn’t you?”

Buffy looked between Spike and Travers a couple of times before voicing her conclusion to the latter: “You think we’ve got Faith here, and you’ve come to pick her up?”

Travers looked confused and angry about it. “Now look here,” he began, “Rupert contacted me some time ago to say Faith was in the area.”

In an instant, all eyes shifted to Giles.

“Well, er, yes,” he mumbled, taking off his glasses so he could massage his temples. “As you say, that was some time ago. I’m quite afraid she’s moved on since then.”

“You called _him_?!” Buffy balked, at the same time that Travers blustered, “You let her _go_?!”

In the next moment, Dawn descended the stairs to inform everyone they were being too loud and that she couldn’t sleep. Spike swept her up in his arms but, before he could whisk her away back to her bedroom, Travers had stepped forward and said, “Ah, so this must be Dawn.”

More looks were shared across the hallway in every direction as the group wondered what the top watcher knew about the girl and her origin.

Another step towards her and she held closer to Spike before stating, “I don’t like you. You make mommy and daddy all nervous.”

Travers’ eyes narrowed on her before he looked back around at Buffy. “I see you taught her the same level of respect you’ve always shown.”

“How dare–” Buffy began, only to be cut off by Spike growling.

“Get the hell out of my house!” he yelled.

“Why don’t we all just calm down,” said Giles, before turning to his former boss. “I should think it’s hardly right for you to speak on respect when you have offered Buffy none since you entered her home.”

Quentin gave a hesitant nod. “Very well,” he said, stiffly. “Faith is gone. I’ll have it noted. Now, Dawn. Created magically, did you say, Buffy?”

Buffy swore out loud at herself, at Travers, and the whole damn conversation.

Panic filled Spike’s veins but, before he could act on it, there was a buzz in the air and the whole earth under his feet seemed to shift. Next thing he knew, he was watching Travers give his head a quick shake and hearing him say, “I’ll be off then.”

They couldn’t close the door behind him fast enough.

“What was that?” Buffy asked, the moment he was gone.

“Uh, that was kinda me,” said Tara, meekly.

“A confusion spell?” asked Giles.

“Just a little one,” she said in her defense.

But it was not an accusation. Giles actually hugged her tightly and chirped out, “You brilliant, brilliant girl!”

When Tara yelped at the sudden contact, Giles caught a hold of himself and released her. She repositioned herself behind Willow and Oz.

“Does someone want to tell me what just happened?” asked Buffy.

“Tara did a confusion spell,” Anya explained. “It muddles up a few minutes for whoever it’s cast on. If Travers remembers what you said about Dawn, he’ll dismiss it as nonsense.”

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, then looked up at her daughter, still in Spike’s arms. “Dawn!” she exclaimed, before clasping a hand over her mouth.

“I’m magical?” questioned the girl, a little frown painted across her face. “Like auntie Willow?”

Before Buffy could say any more, Spike said, “Not quite. You’re a miracle, and we love you.”

“Oh,” said Dawn, suddenly smiling. “Okay.”

Buffy felt Spike think a rather exaggerated, ‘ _Bloody hell!_ ’ and added an internal little ‘ _amen_ ’ of her own.

“Daddy?”

Both Buffy and Spike looked back at Dawn.

“Yes, princess?”

“I’m tired.”

Spike smiled a smile full of a million emotions, then kissed her forehead. “I’ll take her up,” he said to Buffy.

She nodded and said, ‘ _Thank you_ ’ silently.

‘ _The acceptance of kids, eh?_ ’

‘ _You can say that again!_ ’

‘ _Back in a tick, ducks. Why don’t you get Glinda to help with drinks?_ ’

 

Before Buffy knew it, everything was back to as if the past half hour hadn’t happened. Refreshment break completed, they got straight back into the Scooby meeting.

Because Willow was only able to set up the glamour on the house for demons, she proposed the extra precaution of adding warning sirens into the mix, to alert Spike and Buffy of any other kind of danger.

When everyone had run out of steam and suggestions, Spike let out a frustrated, “Bloody hell!”

“What now?” asked Buffy.

“Everything. That’s the point. It never ends. There’s always something, I don’t know how you do it, pet.”

“Hey,” said Buffy, soothingly, “We’ll get through this. We always do.”

He wasn’t pacified, however. It had been a fortnight of too many near misses.

“Faith, Glory, Dru–“ he continued. “What the hell is wrong with soddin’ evil women?”

“Probably the fact that they’re evil,” Xander hedged, immediately shutting up again when Spike glared at him.

“I swear,” Spike vowed, “I’ll rip the head off the next person to try and tear my family apart. Pity the bloody people set up specifically to help you, with all their soddin’ resources never bloody actually help you!”

“It’s fine,” said Buffy, but Spike still looked far from convinced.

“No, really. We don’t need them. Remember what they Guardian said? I already have what I need.”

Spike’s mood lightened a little bit. Was she suggesting what he thought she was?

“We hit her with the extra,” said Buffy, confirming the suspicion.

The Scoobies threw blank looks at each other again, but Spike grinned.

_Yes_ , he thought. He’d been dying to try it out.


	40. Personal Demons

When Buffy came back from breaking the news about Dawn’s origin to her mother, she found Spike in the living room, testing her scythe out. He’d pushed the couch back to make room and was being careful, almost reverent, about passing it between his hands. When he stopped and looked up, Buffy was looking back at him with worry on her face.

The scythe was quickly put aside.

“What’s wrong? Dawn? Where is–”

“She’s with my Mom.”

Spike tilted his head “Something up, pet?”

“Yes.”

He quirked his eyebrow at her and she spoke again saying, “I was hoping you’d tell me.” After a moment of no response to that, Buffy continued again, coming to the point. “I almost lost you to a fledging yesterday.”

“Oh.” His shoulders slumped. “Is that all?”

“Is that all?! Spike, a _fledge_!”

His muscles tensed again as he bit out, “It got lucky.”

Buffy shook her head. “You were sloppy.”

“Hey!” he snapped, but she did not back down. In fact, she stepped closer, so they were only a couple of inches apart.

They’d been doing a standard patrol in Restfield the previous evening and, even though there hadn’t been much danger about, Buffy had had to step in and save Spike from getting his head ripped from his shoulders.

In a calm voice, she asked him, “What is it?”

“What is what?” he snapped again. “You’re making something outta nothing.”

Buffy lay a hand on his chest with a firm, “Tell me.”

After a bit more hesitation, Spike gave into her touch. “As it happens I haven’t been quite relishing the kill like I used to,” he confessed, his gaze directed at the floor.

“Why?” asked Buffy. Though she thought she already had it figured out, he needed to say it.

He pulled back a little once more and said, quietly, “Because of Dru.”

“You’re not Drusilla,” said Buffy, still calm.

“Am just as bad though, ain’t I?”

“No,” Buffy insisted. “You wouldn’t have put Dawn in that danger.”

His eyes met hers again, straining with fear as they were. “I was as bad, once. Have I really changed?”

“Yes,” said Buffy, no degree of doubt or hesitation in the word.

Spike didn’t answer, though. Not at first. After a pause and some pacing to get space between them again, he felt willing enough to continue his confession.

“For a demon, I never did think that much about the nature of evil. For all the killing I’ve done…” his voice got quiet again; just above a whisper. “I’ve never really regretted it, y’know?”

“I know,” said Buffy.

Spike blinked at her, his mouth open in surprise.

“Really,” she affirmed.

“An’ what? You’re fine with that?”

“Yes. No. I mean, it’s–” she wrung her hands. “It’s complicated.”

He walked over to the couch and sagged into it, putting his hands to his head with a defeated, “Yeah.”

Buffy sat down next to him, but when she put a hand on his shoulder he shrugged it off.

“You’re dumb,” said Buffy, then.

Once more, he allowed himself to look up at her, incredulous. There was a howl of laughter, but no mirth behind it. “You’re barking, Love.”

Buffy shook her head. “For all you thought me about what I am – the nature of being the Slayer – and for the things you said about you, and your demon, and having a choice not to be evil, you still don’t get it.”

Spike sighed. “Okay. Explain it to me.”

“You need your demon,” said Buffy, just like he’d once told her. “It’s a part of you, and that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. What you did in the past… it was–” she paused to just breathe for a second, considering it. “It was awful. I can’t guess the half of it, but I know it was bad.”

Spike snorted. “Just caught that bit, yeah?”

“But that’s not you anymore,” Buffy continued.

He looked deep into her eyes and willed himself to believe it, but his guilt and grief weren’t sated yet. Buffy wasn’t giving up.

“I need the warrior, Spike,” she said. “I need the kind, loving man you are, but I need the rest, too.”

“But I don’t know if I can–”

Buffy shook her head again, interrupting. “Thinking about what could have happened to Dawn – what’s happened to other little girls like her – it grieves me, Spike. It does. It makes me want to stay out of a world where that kind of thing happens. But that’s not an option I get, so I force myself to use that pain to fight more; to fight harder, to stop it. You not being who you are doesn’t help anyone. Suppressing your demon to punish yourself could mean even more lives being lost.”

He nodded slightly, knowing she was right, but still not happy about it. He had one more confession to give.

“I know it’s not right, an’ it doesn’t make anything okay, but I was never much into the kiddie killin’ myself. My sisters…” he took a breath. “I’d always imagine them. But Dru… Dru always liked girls. I think she saw herself in them. Some innocence she couldn’t reclaim or somesuch.” A smile appeared on his face, but it was a total expression of grief. “She always said I was never demon enough.”

Out of words, Buffy just held him, and he let her. They spent the evening locked together in silent remembrance over things they had no power to change and, come morning, they put it behind them. The war wouldn’t wait.


	41. A Vision

All week the Scooby Gang had been heavily researching Glory to no avail. Her name was so generic it popped up everywhere, yet nowhere in relation to a key. Well, sometimes in relation to “glorious glitter car keys, for only the shiniest of princess cars. Now with extra glitter!” but, of course, that wasn’t helpful.

Frustrated and at a loss, Buffy even tried to Google ‘evil Glory’ and ended up right back where she started – with over a million irrelevant results and her head in her hands. The first big breakthrough came a few days later and without any research whatsoever.

It was early on a Saturday morning, which Buffy had specifically set aside for a well-needed break from looking at books. She and Spike – having only climbed into bed a few hours previously, after an extended and extremely nasty patrol – were woken by the sound of the phone ringing.

“Whoever that is, I’ll kill them,” said Spike, as Buffy went to pick up.

Before she could even say hello, the person at the other end started talking.

“I just saw it. There was a ring. The, um… the – yes, that’s it – the Gem of Amara. You need to find it, and it’ll help.”

Buffy frowned as she tried to process what she was hearing. It took a while…

“Cordelia, is that you?”

“Duh!” came the response, but that only made Buffy more confused. When she didn’t say anything for another minute or so, Cordelia then elaborated to say, “I had a vision. It’s a thing that happens now.”

“Er, right,” Buffy managed, trying to ignore Spike, who looked genuinely murderous. From what he could make out of the call in his sleep-addled state, he seemed to think they’d been woken up for Grade-A bullshit.

“Wait, wait. What are you saying?” Buffy asked, rubbing her eyes.

“There’s this totally unfashionable ring you need to find,” said Cordelia. “I think it’s for Spike.”

“Okay?”

Cordelia sighed. “I don’t know why, but it’s important. God, do I have to have all the answers?”

“No,” said Buffy, not altogether truthfully. She would have liked a _lot_ more information, but she’d take what she could get. “We’ll look into it. Thanks, Cordy.”

The phone disconnected without her responding.

“What was that about?” asked Spike, once the receiver was back in the cradle.

“The gem of O’Hara,” said Buffy.

He looked confused for a moment then said, “You mean Amara?”

Buffy shrugged. “Is that a thing?”

“If it’s real,” he answered.

“The Powers that be seem to think it is. What’s it do, anyway?”

“Grants the undead protection.”

Buffy sat up fully; suddenly wide-awake and determined to go hunting that very minute. “We should find it. That would be mega helpful.”

“Hold you’re horses there, Slayer. Like I said, it’ll only help if it’s real.”

“Would the Powers That Be send us after something that doesn’t exist?” she reasoned.

Spike considered that. Though he wouldn’t put it past them, what he finally said was, “Yeah, alright. Fair point,” and then he climbed back under the covers.

Buffy’s hands went to her hips. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to sleep,” he groused.

“Spike, we don’t have time. We should get on this now.”

Groaning, he turned around to face Buffy again. “You’re the one said we should have a day off.”

“I know,” she agreed, “But–”

“And I can’t go out during the day,” he continued. “Do you actually have anywhere in mind to start searching?”

“Well, no,” Buffy admitted, deflating somewhat.

“The ring might be important, but we’ve no way of knowing how important. It might have nothin’ to do with Glory.”

“Why would the Powers send us after it if it wasn’t?” she asked.

“I dunno, Slayer. I’m not saying it’s not, jus’ tryin’ to consider things. If it’s only generally helpful, we could end up wasting time on it when we should be focusin’ on killin’ the bint.”

“Hmm…” said Buffy. “Maybe. I guess we could take a few more hours sleep and then ask Giles about it.”

“Good girl,” said Spike, smiling.

She hit him playfully with a pillow. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Whatever you say, ducks,” he replied, before folding her up in his arms.

 

Later that day, when they arrived at the Magic Box, they found that Giles was out at a meeting with suppliers, so ended up telling Willow about the phone call first.

“Lookin’ for it could take months,” Spike was telling her, only to be interrupted by her saying, “There’s no need.”

Before Buffy could get the word “Huh?” passed her lips, Willow had the piece of jewelry in the palm of her hand.

The Slayer looked at it – amazed, at first, and then worried. “What did you do?”

“I focused my mind on what you were looking for and commanded it to come. It wouldn’t have worked if it wasn’t in the area.”

“An’ where exactly in the area was it?” Spike asked, taking hold of the ring.

When Willow shrugged, he and Buffy shared a look.

Utterly proud of herself, the Witch didn’t catch it. Silently, they decided to leave the issue of Willow’s growing power for another time.

“Put it on,” Buffy instructed Spike. “We should test it.”

“Test what?” asked Giles, who had just walked in the door. “My word, is that the Gem of Amara?”

“That it is,” Spike affirmed, displaying it cheekily by putting up his middle finger.

“But, how? What?” Giles stammered, completely glossing over the gesture.

“It’s a long story,” Buffy began, only for Spike to summarize, “Vision girl called, told us to look for it, and Red here pulled it outta thin air.”

“Extraordinary.”

“Thanks,” said Willow, taking it as a compliment rather than the exclamation of shock that it was.

“When did you develop the power to transport items at will?” Giles asked her.

“Kinda just now,” she said, still beaming.

The watcher opened his mouth to say something else, but Buffy interrupted.

“Not to sideline you guys or anything, but there’s kinda a bigger issue to deal with here.”

When Giles raised his eyebrows in question, she clarified, “Glory. Y’know, the end of the world thing? We think we’ve got a lead.”

“Right,” said Willow, suddenly looking disappointed that attention was no longer on her.

“A lead?” pressed Giles, clearly intrigued.

Without further ado, Buffy lead them into the back room where she had one of Glory’s minions bound and gagged.


	42. Key Information

“Where did you find…” Giles began, looking curiously at the minion as he trailed off, trying to decide which pronouns were appropriate.

“A few of them have been following us around on patrols for at least the last week,” said Buffy. “I kept sensing something was spying on me, but any time I turned around there was nothing there.”

“Slippery bastards,” said Spike. “They’re faster than they look. We were out all bloody night trackin’ this one.”

“What is it?” asked Willow.

“I’m not sure,” said Giles, though it was obvious some part of his brain was whirring away, trying to connect the creature to something he’d seen in his books.

“Damn it,” he exclaimed a moment later.

“Damn what?” asked Buffy before looking around to make sure Dawn wasn’t in earshot. The thought struck her that leaving her with Anya might not be any more P.G. than having her eavesdrop and she resolved herself to retrieving the child as soon as the interrogation was done.

“I believe this to be a demon monk, of sorts,” said Giles. “Not from this dimension, but perhaps from the one in which Glory hailed. A batch of them were documented some twenty years ago and they haven’t been seen before nor since.”

“That’s a bad thing?” asked Spike, his eyebrow raised.

Giles shook his head. “That is neither here nor there. The problem is that the book in which they were documented was burned at city hall last year.”

When Willow and Buffy both swallowed at the mention of burning at city hall, Spike concluded that he’d missed something – literally. Whatever Giles was referring to must have happened before he’d returned to Sunnydale and it bothered him to know that something important had happened in Buffy’s life that he had no knowledge of.

Reading his thoughts, Buffy told him silently that she’d explain later. In the meantime, she turned back to Giles and the matter in hand. “Do you think you can track down another copy of the book?”

“I can try,” said Giles. “Though, as I remember, it didn’t contain much more than what I’d already told you: demon monks showed up, about two decades ago, and then promptly vanished again. The illustration looked just like him.”

He said the word ‘him’ firmly, as if to assert his final choice of classification. Previously, he’d followed the council’s practice of dehumanizing anything that wasn’t… well, human. But in recent times, and under much duress from Spike, the watcher had been trying to be more open-minded about things.

Despite their departure of ways, the council might have the book they were looking for in their library, or at least be a good starting point on locating it elsewhere. Whether it was worth hunting down and raising suspicions over was another matter, however.

“Why don’t we ask him?” Willow interjected. Spike and Buffy thought she looked all too eager to start questioning, and they soon found out why.

“I was reading about this new spell,” she continued, “It lets you get inside someone’s head.”

“No,” said Buffy, having recently come to appreciate just how intimate sharing someone’s inner thoughts and feelings really was. When Willow looked disappointed and the minion shed his look of fear for one of relief, however, she amended her answer to, “Not yet. First, we try the old-fashioned way.”

“Finally,” said Spike, who felt he had been very patient up to this point when he much preferred just getting on with things. It was his turn to be disappointed, though, when he removed the gag from the minion – who was suddenly looking fearful again – and it told them everything without any provocation.

Buffy patted Spike’s arm consolingly, knowing how much he’d been looking forward to the provocation process.

“There is a text,” the minion began, and once he had started, it was difficult to get him stopped again. When Giles couldn’t find a notepad and pen quickly enough, Willow magic-ed one right out of thin air, but he didn’t have the time to look concerned over it.

The minion, who was named Murk, apparently, was saying that a text existed – a different one to the one Giles recalled – and it outlined the entirety of “the great Glorificus’s plans.”

“Which are what, exactly?” Buffy pressed.

“She only wants to return home,” said the minion, which sounded so reasonable that, for a moment, everyone wondered what the big fuss was all about. But then Murk elaborated, and the true weight of the situation really dawned on them.

“The key opens dimensional walls that will let the Great One cross over. Everything will bleed together and many will die, but our purpose will be achieved.”

“And what is Glory? Why is she here?” asked Giles.

“Glory is god of a hell dimension. She and her sisters…” Murk’s face twisted as if he’d eaten something unpleasant, “ _disagreed_.”

“Must be one hell of a disagreement if they blasted her outta the bloody universe into ours,” said Spike.

Murk looked at him with distain. “You must not speak of these things lightly.”

“Yeah?” said Spike. “Well, I’m thinkin’ your mistress is probably gonna tear you apart for speaking at all.”

The downside to that, of course, was that Murk then decided having the truth tortured out of him was indeed preferable to Glory finding out he’d been lose lipped without any more than just vague threats.

Spike wanted to beat him up when he stopped talking, but Buffy told him to leave it, reasoning that whatever they could find out from the book was probably going to be less biased than whatever Murk told them anyway.

“Spoil all my fun,” Spike groused, shoving his idle hands in his pockets. The action reminded him of his new accessory and he took his left hand out again to gaze at it. The Gem of Amara looked quite nice, he thought, there on his ring finger.

 

\---

 

Back out in the main shop, Giles tried not to think about the fact that Buffy now had to kill and dispose of the minion he’d earlier decided was sentient enough to be allowed some degree of human consideration.

Looking up the book Murk had mentioned in the Magic Box’s catalogue of mystic suppliers, he was happy to discover it not only existed but was available for order.

“I can have it in ten days,” he told Buffy, when she’d rejoined him.

“I can have it tomorrow,” said Willow, brightly. “Amazon do next day delivery.”

It took Giles a minute to recover from the shock that the Internet could be so useful and, when he did, Anya was quick to point out that she’d been telling him that ever since the store opened.

“Didn’t I say you could make a killing by moving stock online? Honestly, your generation are so intimated by computers, but I’m over a thousand and I’ve got with the times.”

“Thank you, Anya, but my age aside, I do believe my reservations for ‘going online’ are rather valid. Certain objects and books can be dangerous in the wrong hands, and shouldn’t be sold willy-nilly.”

“Y’know, normally I’d agree,” said Buffy, “But I’m sure glad we can order that book. Get on it, Will.”

Willow beamed at Buffy, happy that she took her side, then everyone cracked a smile as Dawn began giggling uncontrollably as she repeated “willy-nilly, willy-nilly” over to herself.

Finally getting a lead put everyone in good spirits.

 

\---

 

Giles’ brain was still foggy with sleep when he was woken at seven-am, Sunday morning, by someone at his door.

When that someone handed him a package, however, the fog lifted and he was instead filled with confusion. He knew Willow had said the book would arrive via next-day delivery, but this level of promptness was unheard of.

Maybe she cast some kind of spell to make it come faster, he thought. Certainly, he wouldn’t put it past her, but when he signed for the tome and opened the invoice inside, he realized the real reason for its speedy arrival was that she’d agreed to pay a criminally large postage fee. Or, rather, she’d said he would pay it.

Still, it was probably better than her over-using magic. And since he was up, he made a cup of tea and got straight into reading the thing. By afternoon, he had all the answers Murk had promised. And, thus, he called a Scooby meeting…

 

All squeezed into Giles’ living room was Willow, Oz, Tara, Anya, Xander, Buffy, and Spike – the latter two having left Dawn with Joyce, at their house, under the strictest instruction that, should the magical alarms sound or anything remotely bad happen at all, she’d call right away.

“So, what’s the what?” Xander asked, to kick things off.

“I barely know where to begin,” said Giles. “Perhaps after I’ve had a second read through of the text, it would be advisable that you–” he gestured to Willow and Tara with one leg of his glasses, “–also have a look?”

“We can do that,” they agreed, smiling at each other.

“If that’s about Dawn, me and the Slayer want to look too,” said Spike.

“Naturally,” Giles affirmed.

Repeating Xander’s words in a distinctly less casual tone, Buffy said, “What’s the what? Suspense is kinda killing me here.”

Giles nodded and launched himself into a summary of all he’d so far gleaned. “Glory, or Glorificus as she’s also known, is a god from an alternate dimension. Her strength, it seems, comes from light. Physical light; most namely, the sun. As such, she cannot go out at night as doing so drains her energy. I believe that’s why she has had her minions follow you on patrol rather than doing so herself.”

“And Dawn?” Buffy pressed, more than a little frustrated with how long-winded her watcher could be.

“As Murk said, Dawn is the key to opening dimensional portals that would allow Glory to return to her home dimension. But more than that, she’s also the key to defeating her. She must be present at the battle.”

A tortured sound escaped Buffy’s throat as she wrung her hands. Spike took told of one of them, though she wasn’t sure if it was to try and calm her or himself.

“How does it work?” he asked, trying valiantly to focus solely on the facts and not the protective instincts surging in his blood. “What does she have to do?”

Giles squinted at the text as if focusing his eyes would make the translation become clearer. “It says here that upon activation against its foe, the key will become effulgent.” He paused, looking puzzled for a moment, then began again, “That means–”

“Glowing,” said Spike, his eyes becoming unfocused. “The bit’s gonna emit light.”

“Yes, it appears so,” said Giles.

“Will it hurt her?” asked Buffy, trying to ignore the strange emotion that was flowing through Spike.

When she had time to consider it, Buffy was often amazed at how strongly he felt everything. He had emotions she couldn’t name, and it made her wonder if everyone was like that and she was the anomaly. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say that, in this moment, there was a deep sense of nostalgia and awe, but that didn’t seem to fit with the conversation so she wrote it off as a miscommunication that she’d figure out later.

Giles didn’t meet Buffy’s eye as he admitted that the text couldn’t guarantee the final battle wouldn’t cause Dawn any pain.

“What _is_ quite plain, however, is that this is the only way. Weapons that were forged in other realms are a weakness of Glory’s. They can hurt her, or keep her at bay temporarily, but to defeat her wholly, Dawn’s assistance is essential.”

“Right,” said Buffy, standing up and starting to pace. After a couple of laps of the living room in which everyone else was silent, she turned to look at Spike, willing him to make things better.

On cue, he also stood and walked towards her before then kneeling at her feet. Looking deep in her eyes he said, “I believe in you, Love; in both of us. And Dawn, too.”

Buffy closed her eyes, forcing herself not to break down in front of everyone.

Spike took her hand and placed it over where his heartbeat would have been as he continued, “Watcher said objects can hurt the bint. I’m bettin’ that means your scythe. The _Powers that Be_ are on our side, an’ that’s gotta count for something, right? I know it’s hard, and I don’t want Dawn to face anything like this either, but she’s got herself a destiny, jus’ like her mum. We’ll fight this thing, and we’ll win. It’s what we do.”

Buffy nodded, a single tear trailing down her cheek. In a croak, she said, “Now I know how my mom felt when she heard I was the Slayer.”

At that, Spike got to his feet again and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Uh, guys?” Oz interjected a moment later.

Everyone turned to look at him.

“Glory’s majorly connected with the sun, right? I’m thinking, with all the light that’s gonna be around, that maybe that’s where the ring comes in?”

The gang continued to stare at Oz, their mouths dropping open one by one in a domino effect.

“Bloody hell!” Spike exclaimed, taking another look at the Gem.

The words, “I freaking love Cordelia,” slipped from Buffy’s mouth for the very first time ever, followed by, “This is great! The Powers gave me my scythe, meaning I can get Glory on the ropes before Dawn ever has to play her part. They’ve helped Spike get the ring, meaning he’ll be in the game–”

“And they’ve given you both Dawn,” added Tara.

“You’re an unstoppable team,” said Willow.

Leaving Xander to conclude, “I sure as hell wouldn’t want to fight any of you, especially now.”

Spike laughed – the tension that had been building in both him and Buffy distinctly lessened.

“Giles, you re-read the book, pass it Tara and Willow, and then let us have it,” said Buffy, engaging her best I’m-in-charge-and-I-can-handle-this voice. “I want battle plans by the end of the week.”

“Hell bitch is going down,” said Spike, a sly grin spreading across his face, knowing that Glory had no chance against his best two girls.   



End file.
